A Dead Man Tells No Tales
by ForTheStars
Summary: Halloween 1985: Lord Voldemort attacked Great Britain September 1991: Neville Longbottom, The Chosen One, came at Hogwarts, befriending a death-eater son. But where have you gone to, Harry Potter? Here, is what is remembered of their stories ... of war, of deception, but also of friendship. [Neville's not the main character, Ron and OC centric, year 3 on going]
1. The great attack

**Okay guys, so I am kind of new at this. This is my frst fanfiction. The idea actually comes from an unfinished french fic named another story. I kinda liked the idea and I got the okay to translate and continue the story. And I can tell you I am excited :D**

 **Well, here it begins !**

 **Don't forget to read and Review !**

 **Edited version**

* * *

 _Chapter 1: The great Attack_

An All Hallow Eve

 _Tonight, I remember the start of it all. Even if I do not want to. It just … keeps happening. Will it ever stop? Magic haunts me … down right to my name. I hate it so much it hurts. My body even stopped remembering ages ago the feel of the thrill. I convinced myself it was nothing. But the tears still flow unwaveringly, staining slowly with their watery color the sheets I sat upon._

 _I was told to write down what I remembered. So here is the story of too many fallen people I once hold dear._

 _As I might have told before, I know things, things I should not possibly know._

 _I was five. And I saw death right in front of me._

 _Black as the blood in my veins, it was spilled to my feet with a joyous glee, one I will forever be afraid of. I spent my whole life trying to stop that ugly feeling from resurfacing again. It didn't work. Sadly, I live with this clench forever, knowing that had I done something more, it would not have happened. All that slaughter …_

 _But you are not here to hear about my own sad life._

It was a night like all others. Or at least at first. Maybe it was a bit cold for an October night. I don't know. For the muggles, everything seemed as fine as it could be, children running all over the place for treats, impersonating real wizards and witches without knowing they were watching them in distaste. Let's face it people, no one is happy to see they are seen as man-eater or some ugly-something-humanoid. Inferii might though.

Hum, back to the story at hand.

The streets were crowded. But only muggle-crowded. The whole of Britain Wizarding World was at war, waiting for misery to come at their doors. Few witches were out in the night, and those that were, kept looking around them afraid of the darkness. And for a good reason. Dementors lurked around, sucking the soul of unsuspecting people.

But if you were one to let your ear open, you would have realized one grand secret : panic, fear and blood coated the minds of the magic-folk. On the third street, right off the great boulevard, around the corner with the corny muggle pub, you would see the leaky-cauldron. And then just after that, Diagon Alley. Turn a bit to the left after Madam Malkin's shop and here you can find yourself on Knockturn Alley. What a charming street … with the all so charming witches and wizard all here because of some unsavory business. Nowadays, though, nobody cared. Everyone just wanted to know they would be safe by the end of the day. Sadly, it was not the case.

The small tavern, next to the old barn – yes there once was a barn on Knockturn Alley, before some dark Wizard thought it would be funny to cook together all the roosters- was buzzing with sound and merriment, even in these dark times. Here's the catch though. There were no Aurors. Only Death-Eaters. These people lived for the thrill of serving their Master, the Oh so great Lord Voldemort. All of them agreeing with his every word, mostly, death to all non-magic people, slavery for the others. Even I, at a time, worshipped the very ground he walked on. Ah, you did not expect that, uh? Ha, well, let it be another bit added to my tab of being a traitor.

Outside of that tavern, no one knew for sure who could have commandited an attack for sure – for an attack was sure to follow. But, eyes still lingered on the left arm of unknown people before hurrying out of sight. It was never prudent to tarry too long in one place when knowing death was awaiting in a corner.

Curfew was at eight, so very soon, no one was in the tavern of Knockturn Alley. Some rats might have stayed there though. And that was worrysome. As a whole, the place fully crowded minutes before, was now empty. Suddenly, the atmosphere became eerie.

The situation was very much tense, all waiting for that bolt of thunderstorm to strike, waiting for the one who would begin that all-out war. On the one hand, you would have the Death-Eaters, led by one crazy Lord Voldemort, and on the other hand, the Order of the Phoenix led by one mighty Albus Dumbledore. And in the middle of it all : the whole magical population of Great-Britain.

So this night I keep talking about, just so that you can commit into your tiny head every single detail possible, was not a very good one for just about any sane person. And certainly not for one Albus Dumbledore. Truth to be told, the mightiest Wizard from these last 5 decades seemed particularly las. In his eternal magenta robes and his half-moon spectacles, he was watching raptly his strange silvery trinkets making awful noises on his desk. No doubt only him could possibly know what these weird shaped objects meant. And perched on his shoulder, a beautiful phoenix was singing a macabre song. Yes, tonight, it was better not to be Albus Dumbledore. Breaking the enchantment, the door of the desk-room opened on two professors of the reknown Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. One of them was affubled of big black capes and dark greasy hair. The other one was a woman, a bit on the strict side, and dressed in elegant emerald robes.

"Why have you called us here Albus? It is late and students-

A simple gesture of the headmaster stopped the flow of words from the woman. The other man seemed to just wait, lost into his own world, eyes unseeing.

"Minerva, I think tonight, we will have a lot to do. Listen to what Severus has to say."

All the looks veered towards the potion master named Severus. Even the portraits hung on the walls were looking at him. With a trembling voice, he finally uttered a word, eyes still unfocused.

"I just received the informations. I did not think it …" a small break happened, "The Dark Lord approaches. He … he demanded to all his Death-Eaters to attack certain places at once. A small force will attack the Ministry, another a village. Another one the Longbottoms. Maybe one will go after the Potters, the Michaelsons and Smiths. Tonkses are sure to be targeted with Bellatrix in the ranks. Unfortunately, I don't know where _He_ will go. No one does. I just know the attack will begin at nine tonight. That's all I know Albus … I did not receive any orders … I must not be in his favours and-"

"To lament oneself won't help you at all Severus."

"-Sorry! But … since when did you know ?"

Another silence followed the question. Then, a whisper from the headmaster. Slowly a strangled noise coming from the woman was heard.

"Minerva, it is not time to despair yet. There is still a lot to do and I am sure we can do something."

Suddenly, a white bolt came from one of the wooden object of the Headmaster.

"I sent a patronus to the Order. Our sole hope is that it's not too late to act. For our future …"

And yet another silence accompanied the three wizards in the room, only this time it was overruled by the huge timepiece of Hogwarts ringing nine. 9 pm. The attack had just begun. And no one realized just what an important detail had just escaped their attention. To this day, in the pensive, I can hear myself screaming at them, trying to hurl objects at them. If only … if only they had realized it. Maybe, all of this would not have happened. Couldn't they see it? The flow of magic was being tempered with.

But a bolt later and the phoenix perched on the shoulder of the Headmaster had just disappeared, and with him, the three other persons in the room.

 _In memories, you can go back and forth from place to place. Here is just a rag-tag put-together piece of memory. It is lucky I have this much, but those are my most prized possessions. The people it once belonged to are long gone now, and I am the only one wielding the truth of that night. Yet I don't know who to cry for: for loved-ones gone, for mistakes that cost the life of around thousands of wizards or just for the misery I am about to retell you. For, don't misunderstand what I am trying to do here. This, is, the war recounted. From both sides. Unraveled to you as I understood it._

* * *

Riddle Manor was a sore sight for the eyes. It was, once, a great castle. But it lost its shiny luster long ago. Now, it just looks like a great lump of trash put together. It wass not worthy of any title now.

But in the main room, sat hundreds of dark-masked wizards, all of them kneeling in front of one white faced man.

"My Lord, I beg of you, what are your ord-"

The person kneeling in front of the marble throne never got to finish his sentence. A green bolt had just hit him square in the chest. In the huge ball room where sat a bald man with red eyes, everybody tensed. He-Whose-Name-Must-Not-Be-Pronounced was lifting his wand.

"No one talks. Wait for my signal. No one removes his hood. Commit suicide otherwise."

The anxiety, which ruled in master in the huge room, increased even more. The eyes of everyone riveted on their comrade's corpse.

"Everyone's got their specific orders. Bella, I won't accept any failures. Do you hear me ?"

"Yes Master."

The voice of Bellatrix Lestrange seemed oddly subdued. Oh well, it would not last for long.

"You'd better." Said Lord Voldemort. Under the threat, a smile played on the lips of the deranged witch.

"It won't be necessary Master." Whispered the witch with such softness it should have been impossible for one trembling witch like her. But she was insane and it was well known. She was particularly known for her crucio-happy wand casting.

Lord Voldemort did not say anything else. He smiled, once, twice, before laughing like a child before lifting yet another time his wand. A strong light came forth and then no one was there. All of them were gone with a loud bang. All but the corpse of that one Death-Eater.

The attack had just begun, and already bolts of all colors smeared the sky. In the Manor, the corpse of an unknown Death-Eater waited for a snake to come.

* * *

 _As I said, and I promess I won't interfere with you after that note, I like to know things. So I recorded the most important places. Maybe you have seen for yourself such atrocities. Maybe you were out that night, to defend or attack, who cares at this point? So much worse was unleashed after that. But that night was a night for terrible acts. Here is what happened at the Ministry, there is what happened at the Longbottoms and over there you will find the terrible fate of the Potters. Some leagues away, this metamorphmagus child is dying. His name was Fergus Michaelson. He was six. I like to think it cld have been anyone else. Bu it wasn't. Without knowing it, Something darker than ever before had begun to unleash its wrath. And I would come to understand it years later._

At the Ministry of Magic, things went south real fast. Usually, night was a time for sour Aurors to spit against society. Tonight though, was all-Hallow-Eve. So despite the rather gloomy atmosphere of the whole day really, voices were booming loudly.

"-Ah Perfect ! Potter, Black ! With me !"

A deep voice, more grunting than welcoming was heard above the hall of chimneys. A man with a wooden leg and more scars than a man should ever have stopped himself in front of two wizards. The two wizards, Black and Potter, did not say a word nor exchanged laughs.

"-not time to laugh you Flobberworm band. We're going to hunt Death-Eaters tonight, t's going to rain this pest. So"

"Constant vigilance" said the two other men laughing wildly at a joke only them could ever hope to understand. Then they shut up. "We're with you Moody" said the man sporting glasses.

"You don't have a choice Potter. Black, not a word from you. Every Auror is requisitioned. Tonight will be a downright massacre, so no false notes. Either way, it's death awaiting us."

"We're always serious when working ! "smiled the second man, Black.

A glare and a pointed look from the two men in front of Sirius Black stopped him in his tracks. Yes, he did not want to confront the two wizards in a one on two battle. Chances were, he would lose in a mere three seconds. Three seconds being the time it would take him to apparate away but also the time his partner would have to erect an anti apparition ward and just enough time for Moody to stun him. Ha … he could try something else … but somehow, he knew it would not be worth it. He had so many things up his sleeve for other persons. Persons like … his very own crazy family.

Coughing just a little bit to hide his day dream, he leaned over his long time best-friend and Partner in crime at work, James Potter.

"Think he's still mad at us for the Polyjuice ?" mouthed uncertainly Sirius while following Moody throughout the maze the Ministry was.

"I don't think he knows it was our doing."

"Not so sure … I had intensive training for two weeks after that small prank. "

"Well … mate, you were the one who gave him the potion."

"He should be ashamed to have drank it. And how in hell did he expect me to know he would take the appearance of Servilus ? Which, by the way, makes me think – shut up Potter, yes I think – how did you take a sample of his hair without having your hand rotting ? And the smell dude … the smell and grease … Ahh, don't you touch me ever again ! And I am so telling Lily for that one"

"Bro! I put on some gloves. Have some faith!"

The silent begging of one James Potter did nothing to stop Sirius from cackling loudly. Ignoring completely the grunts of Moody Mad Eye – perks of being hit-Wizard.

"CONSTANT VIGILIANCE! Bumbling idiots! You! Stop waving your wand around before you hurt yourself!" screamed the old Auror at some poor witch strolling with a stack of paper following her. "You two! Stop fooling around. We're taking the portkey! Hurry up! Come one! "

"Where to?"

"Not here!" was the rough reply.

Just in time, the three men held on some tiny rope and disappeared. The dodged the green bolts too. With that, the strangled cry from wizards came into focus.

"DEATH-EATERS IN THE MINISTRY!"

Soon, the Ministry was no more than a battle of all colors fighting for life.

* * *

Longbottoms residence was a rather lonely mansion on the side of a park. Let it be not said that Pureblood Wizards had no tastes. The mansion was absolutely gorgeous. The small alley leading to the mansion, though, was completely useless and well, full of dirt. And this is where the three aurors that disappeared from the Ministry – or escaped, depends on your point of view, but I like to be optimistic, so let's keep it light – appeared. All of their wands up in their hands.

"What are we doing here?"

"Longbottoms. We secure the area, rough up some Death-Eater baby and we go on our separate ways." The three men treaded lightly on the path, waiting for some kind of ambush. "They might already be here, be careful."

Thing is, Death Eaters were not there yet. It was from the distinct noise of apparition the three Aurors realized they had some company. James stopped and showed eight with his fingers.

The message was passed down. There were eight Death Eaters. The Secret Keeper of the Longbottoms is either dead or a death-Eater. Possibly both.

James then flaunted his invisibility cloak and went slowly toward the great doors of the mansion. No words needed, James was the only one who knew the mansion that much, even Frank Longbottom admitted as much after some party. Sirius just waited next to Moody Mad eye, a disillusion spell already in place.

The battle went sourly. The eight Death-Eaters strove hard against the wards of the Mansion, unable yet to disable them. Sirius and Moody kept waiting for James to come back but he was not. They decided to act a few minutes later, but the moment the first spell was thrown the eight death-Eaters focused their attention solely on Moody. Sirius tried to counter them but failed and ended up throwing hexes all over the place. Bolts of all colors went back and forth, with a fair share of green spells but few found their original targets. Fortunately for the Aurors, they were agile enough to keep dodging the green spells. But there was something odd on this battle. The moment one spell was out, the whole bunch of Death Eaters was upon them.

"They are not here for the wards!" shouted Sirius. "They want to keep us out!"

With two flicks of his wand, three Death-Eaters collapsed. With a huff, Sirius kept on moving, escaping an orange spell by a few. He heard Moody shouting some obscure threats at a death-eater – Sirius actually pitied for a second the poor dude. Then he remembered he served Lord Voldemort and actually sent a tripping jinx toward the unsuspecting death-eater. Shouting blue murder, Sirius then went back into the small crowd.

"Sectumsempra"

The purple spell touched Moody dead on his left eye. An actual scream escaped the lips of the old Auror before a yellow spell went hurling at a frightening speed toward the Death-Eater who cast it. He never woke up. Sirius, try as he might, could only stop the unstoppable. Moody was down and Sirius would not be able to be a match for three fully trained Death-Eater. Then as quick as ever, a spell touched him. Sirius stopped moving altogether.

"NOOOO! Padfoot!"

An orange bolt cut through the air and finished the Death-Eater who had touched Sirius. James came through the foliage, all bruised up but overall in good shape. Following him, was one Frank Longbottom. Even through rage and tears the two Aurors ended the two last Death-Eater in mere seconds.

"Hurry, we must take them inside" screamed Frank. His nose was bleeding and his left arm formed an angle it should not have. James had only eyes for Sirius, not caring about his face at all.

"Hurry up, everything is not lost yet. He was not hit by an avada. He is still breathing."

The two Aurors levitated the two bodies and took them straight through the doors. There, waiting for them was Augusta Longbottom, the mother of Frank, in her eternal eagle-hat. Sha was definitely irritated.

"-How dare they!? How did that sneaky little serpent dared! By my own Secret Keeper too! This, … this means war!"

The old witch tried a few choice words that made Frank go an exquisite green color. The old witch stopped when she saw James.

"Eh, got all banged up, not so much of a pretty face anymore."

Without so much as an another word, potions floated towards them and went down on the nearest table.

"Move idiot. Put him there. And Frank, go look for the magic eye your grandfather left. It should be in one of the shelves."

No questioning _why_ a magic eye would be there, Frank went straight through the shelves.

"Calm down James. Sirius is just stunned. He should be up and about with a good Ennervate. But Moody … well … Frank?! The eye!"

The eye asked for came tumbling down. Not really paying attention to the gory details, Augusta took it in her hand and plucked it in the socket left in Moody's face.

"It will have to do for now."

James was ready to throw up after that demonstration and Frank was probably already rejecting his dinner somewhere on the ground.

Only a few moments later did the talking begin.

"They came all at once. At nine exactly, they were at the doors. And Bellatrix Lestrange was there. She managed to infiltrate the Mansion and she found us. It was just me, Alice and small Neville. Fortunately Mom was there too. She managed to stop Bellatrix in her folly and bought us enough time for Alice to take Neville in a safe-house. She should be back any time now, with some reinforcements." Frank took a swing of Butterbeer, "But Bellatrix was not alone. Her husband was there too. Rodolphus. I think Rabastan might have been somewhere too. He is never too far from his brother. Anyway. I engaged Rodolphus in a duel. But things went rather downhill. He would have killed me had James not come through. We then succeeded in putting him off, but he escaped. I did not understand why too. Bellatrix did the same. It must have been a ploy to get us here but, why?... well there is nothing to do anymore."

"Hmm. Yes. That little devil, Bellatrix Lestrange did the same thing once she realized Neville was not there anymore. Might be safer to bring him back here. They would not dare to come back with a house full of Aurors." mumbled Augusta Longbottom.

"Neville?" one disorientated Sirius asked

"The Prophecy bro." reminded James to his best-friend, "we must protect Neville at all cost ccording to Albus Dumbledore." he ignored Franck Longbottom's grimace. He, too, didn't like that prophecy. But Neville would save the whole wizarding world one day. So, all of themhad to protect the boy for now.

A pregnant silence cut the room. The green flames flared to life and let Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin and Alice Longbottom walk through.

* * *

The news spread like a wildfire. Besides Hogwarts, in merely minutes everybody was aware of the Death Eater attack. As one they had attacked. But retaliation was on its way. Even if Diagon Alley was badly damaged, goblins and wizards alike lying on the ground, Fabian and Gideon Prewett were there. At the Ministry, Albus Dumbledore had just come with, in his wake, some strong Warriors named the Na-Dragons. The Minister herself, Bagnold was showing some serious spirit for such an old witch. Villagers, even through the fires ravaging their homes, dented the forces of the Death-Eaters like nothing. The most surprising thing though, was the fact that the Death-Eaters were slowly reclining. All the members who arrived at the Longbottoms, headquarters of a night, said the same things. Besides the massacre, Death-Eaters were either committing suicide once their identities revealed, or apparated away. Not one building, not one monument had yet to fall to their fearsome numbers. And they kept on going as if they were _winning_. Worse news though, Lord Voldemort had yet to come on the battlefield. The apprehension of his coming was what stroke fear. No one knew. At ten thirty, the Attack was not over. But no one was lingering on the floor of Longbottom Mansion.

Tonight had been terrible. Tonight had been bloody. But tonight was far from over.

* * *

The Longbottom's safe house was just a normal magic house. It was not that much warded either. After all, Franck and Alice were on the side of hidden in plain sight. Either way, the safe house belonged to some very old wizard named Alfred Rottingpot. He had once a very flourishing career in the Ministry but now was in a magic retirement. Working was not a part of his life anymore. Now, he could just rest in his house and look up at the sky at night. Or just babysit some baby. As it was, when Alice Longbottom came tumbling out of the fireplace, he had no other choice but to help her. After all, he had known her for the better part of his life. Well, he had known her parents, but that was jst a very small detail. Out she came, and she was holding in her arms a small five-year-old Neville. The poor boy seemed completely terrorized and utterly spent at the same time. Alice did not seem to hold it in better than he was.

"Death Eaters at the Mansion. From the insane laugh, I would wager Bellatrix Lestrange was there leading this attack. Not sure though, she kept her mask on. I must hurry Al."

With a swish of his wand, Alfred took some potions to heal the small cuts on Alice's arm and then took Neville from her arms.

"Don't you worry about your little tyke. I have him. He is in good hands. Hurry up and help them."

More than ever, Alfred knew what it meant. As terrible as it could be, he just knew a terrible fate could befall him, Neville or Alice. Somehow, he was just tired. He found himself staring at the window while Alice went out, Neville already sleeping on the couch upstairs. For a long while, in silence, Alfred looked outside. It was, the only thing keeping up to date with the news. In state of wars, he had naturally warded his house against intruders. Just the bare minimum, but it was enough to keep at bay his old friends, if ever they were still alive. The clouds above kept on looking more and more sinister. Each and every bolt coming from one wand was reflected on the once white clouds. As the night grew darker by the minutes, the landscape seemed just … dying. Collapsing on itself. The beautiful land barren of any human soul.

As if answering an unsung plea, the weather, on his own accord, began acting.

"It's gonna rain … And the Wizarding world is at war right now … What a waste."

On this last thought, Alfred moved from his window panel. He went to the kitchen to drink a cold Firewhiskey. And right when the drink was at his lips did he hear a sound on his door. Somebody was knocking.

"Dad! Open, it's me!" a cry said.

Holding in a whisper at the thought of his idiot son who kept on forgetting the spare keys, Alfred opened the door a tad bit angry.

"You could have paid attention and kept your keys with y-"

As many other wizards that night, Alfred Rottingpot did not finish his sentence. Lord Voldemort had just made an apparition. An awful smile gracing his face.

"Perfect, Bella. Perfect." the Dark Lord whispered.

Slowly, he discarded the corpse that was Alfred and cast a quick homenum revelio. That particular spell pointed him then where the last living being of the house was. As slowly as ever, knowing his plan was about to be complete, Lord Voldemort went upstairs. Walking like family might do on burial event.

"Such a disaster … a house like this, home of some pureblood wizard."

A sneer escaped his lips, and as undignified it might have been for him, Lord Voldemort stopped a moment to stare at some odd painting.

"Traitor to their own blood. These pests don't have a place in my society anymore."

The painting went down in ashes. Lord Voldemort kept on walking. After an entirely too long time, he finally came to the room that would held the boy. The red eyes of the wizard became alert. _He sleeps._ Foe some odd reason, Lord Voldemort found that fact funny. Here, the fearsome wizard took time to take in the scene. No need to hurry when wizards were at each other's throats. Such beauty. Such craftsmanship. And only his mind could potentially realize how great, how terribly ingenious his plan was. There, just in the back of the great mage, black clouds were forming. Obscuring the path way back. But lord Voldemort did not know that. Lifting his hand, his eyes redder, about to commit yet another crime, his wand came down

"- _Avada Kedavra"_

The spell was what ended Lord Voldemort. In this time, in this era, it was his end. This night, Lord Voldemort went down, killed by his own trap. His soul scattered to the four winds, a scar left on the small Neville and some dark robes at the end of the bed.

The small room was not even in disorder. And that is how the Longbottoms found their son, sound asleep with no care in the world people had died in front of him.

* * *

Some time ago, in another part of the country, at Godric's Hollow more exactly, war had yet to come. But as small as the village could be, it was a well known wizard village. Death-Eaters were bound to come at some time. But the only sound that disturbed the tranquility of the village was the loud crack of apparition. James, Sirius and Remus appeared a bit confused but overall in great shape. The three men went down the alley to Potter cottage.

"The village does not seem to have been attacked. What a lucky night for you James." Observed Remus nursing a sore arm. A grunt answered him.

"Whatever. Lily would have slaughtered them anyways."

A smile appeared on the three men faces. No doubt Lily could knock all the Death Eater.

"Finally home. Come on guys."

James led the way to a small cottage. And when he opened the door, instead of being welcome by the warmness of his home or the charming wand of his wife, James was met with a wall of mud before being taken down by some force.

"Ah!"

Neither Sirius nor Remus helped him, apparently scared through their wits by some lady behind him.

"Dad! You're home!"

"Wahou Prongslet, that thing was your doing?" asked Sirius poking with his wand the mud wall. An angry shout, also known as Lily, urged them inside.

"Uncle Padfoot! Moony! You're all right!" screamed a small dark haired boy.

"Of course I'm fine." Huffed Sirius. James and Remus sent pointed glares that Sirius tried to ignore.

"Harry James Potter! How many times do I have to tell you to come to bed! Immediately!"

Laugher followed her statement.

"Why are you all laughing? Harry, bed, now."

"Yes mum. Da, you coming too?"

"Sure, come up, I'll be right behind you."

Harry went up the stairs leaving the adults in the hall. Remus took the chair while Sirius went in the kitchen to eat some left-overs. Lily, looking at James like she had never seen him, finally said.

"Well, you are coming late. I heard some terrible news from …" she snapped her eyes shut for a while. No one tried to contradict her. Changing the topic as soon as possible, Lily glared at Sirius. "By the way, what have you been teaching Harry? You have the worst influence on him."

"Me! What have I done again?! Why not James! I feel injustice here!"

A wand met with Sirius face. The poor lad then tried to hide behind James.

"Alright. I'll admit it. Everything is my fault. I am to blame for all your troubles. So I apologize for the cat, the holes in your wall, the broken vase and the cake in your kitchen. And for your hair. Especially your hair. Pink hair was never your thing."

"What are you talking about?! Pink ha-"

The smiles on the three Marauders were priceless and just what Lily needed to understand the situation.

"Alright. You win. But James, your son is one ugly little monster."

The smiles did not dampen one bit.

"I'll have you known he redecorated his room. With Gryffindor colors too."

"Of course, my champion will be a lion!"

"… He transfigured wandlessly the blue rug into a lion plush eating a rat."

"He is a gifted youngster!" shouted still behind James, Sirius, "Only five and he can already understand magic laws!"

"…"

"…"

"You taught him to do that, did you not?"

"Look at it on the good side, Lily flower, He knows some advanced transfiguration."

"James! He is barely five! Between this and the broom-toy … He almost killed the cat! I thought it had a heart attack! And when it went into his room the lion roared."

"Lily, you worry more about the cat than Harry. That is worrysome."

"By my beard, my eyes must be failing me!" cried Sirius, laughing madly

"Diantre!" James was playing the game with Sirius.

"By Morgana! What an horror!"

"Enough!" screamed Lily to stop the antics of Sirius and James, "Harry's doing it on purpose. He likes to scare the cat."

"Me too! He just take a bit of wisdom from us! And in a few years he will be able to scare Minnie too."

After some shouting and some wand casting, the four adults stopped talking for a while, all utterly tired. Lily's hair finally took the right shade of red after a flick of her wand.

Sirius walked to the window when he heard a commotion outside.

"Something's happening outside. Those are not bonfires …"

"James, hurry up to the children. They need to be safely tucked at a safe-house. Hurry."

But it was a lost cause. The moment the words escaped Lily's lips, the door of the small cottage went down. In its wake, some Death-Eaters. And just in the middle, the shortest one said.

"I'm sorry Prongs."

"Wormtail!" whispered shocked James.

"YOU TRAITOR!" barked Sirius, wand at the ready.

The battle began and very quickly it was a race against time to save or kill the children. The spells were fired in all directions and Lily's charming abilities proved very effective. But the Death Eaters were far too many.  
"Quickly upstairs I have a portkey with me" shouted Lily

However the noise had awakened the two Potter children. They pressed against each other when the door was broken. A Death Eater came in and pointed his wand at the children. Maureen wept with all her might and Harry tried to attack the legs of the Death Eater. But faster than the Death Eater's lightning, James arrived and grabbed his two children. He disappeared with Sirius, Lily and Remus very badly.

When he arrived, that is, at his safe house, James noticed several things. First, the safe-house was thrashed. Then, Remus was spread out on the ground and Maureen was in Lily's arms. At last the arm holding his son seemed very light. It was Lily's cry of confusion that forced him to face reality. Harry was gone. From the shirt James had held, there was only a piece of bloody cloth left. Panic and despair mingled with tears and the most extreme rage ever seen in James Potter appeared.

* * *

In a wizarding village:

There was a clap of thunder and then nothing. The child got up in the middle of the rubble and heard a noise.  
" Quick ! It came from above! "  
The child soon made out a few little things. 1, people had returned to his house, 2 his family was not there - could be downstairs still fighting, 3 he had to leave as soon as possible in hiding. That's what he did. He took care, however, to take a magic wand that lay on the ground without an owner. No doubt it could serve well.  
The noises coming from the bottom became stronger and stronger, the struggle intensified, he felt it. Then he did the first thing that came to mind. He jumped out the window. Thinking about it, he thought that it was very stupid because now he had a pain in his legs. The shock had numbed his feet especially. But he did not stop. He remembered vaguely that his father had told him that in case of danger it was necessary to hide and to melt in the mass when we was pursued. Now, it seemed to him quite correct to go hide. So he ran into the streets, clearing a passage and avoiding the spells the sorcerers made. He avoided a lot of green evil. He was however spotted by two death eaters.

" Look at this ! A little piece of garbage without his parents! "

"He's not running fast, Rook."

"Easy and fun prey, I say we go McNair."

Soon there was a hunt. The child tried to escape but he had no luck at all. He tried nevertheless to escape at all costs from his detractors. He walked into an alley and saw a dead wizard with open eyes. He repressed a sob and could not help looking at him.

"Go and show your snotty head"

"What does he look like already?" It seems like he can change the color of his hair whenever he wants to" said in a very bad english some wizard.

"A metamorphmagus child ... it is very rare ... We have to bring him back to the manor, too precious to be lost that one."

When he heard these words, the child was panic-stricken, he disengaged himself from his hiding-place, and ran towards the exit of the village. He broke a house door and took the first broomstick he saw and flew off the cliff. At least he thought that there he could find help. It was not the case. Very quickly, in the air, he met the shots of the Death Eaters and could joyfully discover a mini battalion of wizards in black hood to the coast.

"Not my friends," said the child to herself.

This was probably his last thought. He was touched by McNair's spell and fell to the ground. He crashed and vaguely felt his skull hitting the rock. Before closing his eyes one last time, he saw the shadow of three Death Eaters stepping forward with sadistic smiles. Strangely, the child chose for a last form the same as the sorcerer who died on the alley. That was his last expression too.

* * *

In another wizarding village:

Bellatrix Lestrange was furious. While she had succeeded in her mission - to bring the little Londubat to Rottingpot - and to destroy in her wake some wizard villages here and then, she could not help shouting with rage. She had not been able to lay her hands on the renegades of her family. Between her sister, and dared-she-say, her niece, and her good-for-nothing cousin, she felt like a disgrace. After launching another Unforgivable she had the secret of, the Death Eater felt her skin freezing and her tattoo stung her. She shouted even more furious than ever because she, better than anyone, understood what it meant. Her Dark Lord had just died. Defeated. By a simple kid. Yes Bellatrix was really foaming with rage. She immediately called to order the other Death Eaters and killed those who did not listen to her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw kids running around and trying to escape. She killed them all. No remorse felt too. How could _they_ deserve to live when ... As she returned to the Lord's mansion, all the Death Eaters Apparated with her. Besides the corpse of the Death Eater half-eaten by Lord Voldemort's serpent, Bellatrix waited all-night with her fellow companions for an eventual return of the master. He never came back.

 _And all of you, remember it, for 1985 was a key date in the war between Dumbledore and Voldemort_. _Read it again and pass down what you've learnt. This staged the very first step of the horrors. Something much more sinister had breached the world and recovered from its long slumber because of this war. Me thinks both Voldemort and Dumbledore knew it, too. They felt it in the air, like a thunderstorm approaching._

* * *

 **Here. I hope you all liked it ^^**

 **Post a review or skip to the next chapter, Hogwarts years begin at chapter three anyways.**


	2. Mourning time

**I wanted to post the next chapter quickly. I will try to translate as fast as possible the french fic so you can have the chapters real fast. And then ... well, it will be up to me I guess. Thanks again to LycaonBlanc.**

 **Anyway, here's the chap**

* * *

 _Chapter 2: Mourning time_

The days that followed the great attack were catastrophic. Minerva McGonagall thought she was lucky to have transfiguration tests to correct. This prevented her from thinking about the latest events.

The whole castle was boiling. And that was something! Lord Voldemort, the great black mage, had, at last been overthrown, and by a child of five years old! Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived. No one knew how a child had achieved the feat of returning a spell of death to its shipper. It was unheard of.

It was Albus Dumbledore himself who had confirmed the news. The parents of the young Neville, having survived the attack of their manor by a stroke of luck, had found their son in the house of Rotingpot. The latter was dead, and near Neville's bed lay the robes of the most frightening black mage in England. It was a miracle really. Perhaps that was the only good news. In this great Attack, hundreds of wizards perished and even more were missing. Students of Hogwarts had become orphans overnight, many lost at least one member of their family.

Not a single one left the castle though.

Indeed Hogwarts was considered the most secure castle in the world. The students' families had explicitly requested that children do not leave. That was obviously the case.

English society was very upset by this large-scale attack. Already Death Eaters were caught all over the country and Azkaban cells were beginning to fill. Amongst all those sent to Azkaban, the Lestrange or Malfoy were not found. These families had said they were under imperius ... They got away with a little money was the implied version of the events ... Money could buy a lot the days. McGonagall sighed. The Lestranges trial had ended a few days ago, and the professor felt vaguely ill that murderers like them had been let free of charges.

It was aberrant but it was unfortunately what saved them. The two families withdrew from the public papers to look after their children. Yes ... It had shocked everyone: the Lestranges had a son of seven years, who had been brought to Saint-Mongoose. The papers had said Something about the child being hurt by some stray-spells. The transfiguration professor had another theorie she was sure was closer to the Truth than what the paper had said. She certainly had been vocal enough to her colleagues when they had talked about this. Sirius had even mentionned he wouldn't have passed it by his cousins to hurt their progeny to have an alibi.

Speaking of Sirius, the latter had not recovered from the great attack. He seemed to be in a state of shock. The disappearance of Harry Potter, his godson and the eldest son of the Potters was a terrible blow. When he had returned to the scene with James and Lily, the spectacle which welcomed them was most disastrous: nothing remained of the Potter's cozy house but a heap of ashes. Hundreds of other bodies were lying on the floor of Goddric's Hollow, but Sirius remembered only the one he found near James's house. Without any doubt, Harry's body although it was impossible to recognize the identity of the body. The fire had devastated everything.  
From memory, the massacre of Goddric's Hollow was one of the most murderous.

Nevertheless, many people remained in the hospital. St-Mongoose was packed and wizarding families jostled inside.

Professor McGonagall suddenly closed her drawer, refusing to think of the horrors once more. Oh how she knew the next few days would still be terrible. The only consolation was to say that the war was over, or rather set aside. She suspected that the fight was not over. Yes. And Dumbledore knew that too. Only the craziest and unhappy ones thought it was over

The old witch got up and walked towards the window. From there she saw the students at Hogwarts. Obviously, the older ones realized that outside the walls of the castle, the wizarding world was recovering badly and barely stood on its feet.

With a sigh of frustration McGonagall came out of the transfiguration room where she sat down to correct the students' copies. With great strides, she turned to the right and took the central aisle. Arriving in an inner courtyard, the witch ignored the murmurs of the students and stood before the statue of a gargoyle. After the latter had deigned to open the passage for the professor with a great deal of poorly made insults ("no, but by what right should I listen to a witch who woke me up in the day!") McGonagall climbed the stairs and found herself in front of a door .

The door of the headmaster of Hogwarts was ajar and allowed a fine light to pass.

"- enter professor, please"

"Albus"

The witch walked to one of the armchairs in Chintz and sat down. Finally, as the director did not seem concerned about the silence, McGonagall took the first step:

"-News ?"

The sad look of Dumbledore answered her.

"Unfortunately I'm afraid not. Voldemort (at the name, McGonagall flinched in her chair as a flash of amusement fizzled through the old director's eyes) disappeared. Hidden because he's too weak now, but I doubt he's definitely dead."

"Surely you do not think he'll be alone!" His faithful Death Eaters will come to him as soon as they get the chance to!"

"As soon as the death-eater families, or at least those who have rallied to his cause, will take the first step towards Him, I will know. I must say, the fact that some families are always free exceeds me and desolate me greatly but I can not do anything Minerva ... Only time will tell us what to do. In the mean-time it is of vital importance that Neville Longbottom remains protected in his family away from the gaze of others."

"Yes, Alice and Franck have gone back to a semi-hiding place, which I understand."

The nod of one Albus Dumbledore asserted his beliefs.

Albus Dumbledore stood up and with a wand gesture opened a drawer. From this he floated a pensive - a kind of tray where the professor's memories were preserved.

"Let's hope the sequel is more cheerful Minerva, because that's absolutely all we have left. Hope."

A silvery filament came out of Professor Dumbledore's head and came gently into the pensieve. As Minerva McGonagall was about to leave the office, she noticed that the fragment of memory that Albus had left in his mind was none other than the Lestrange trials. The deranged faces were unmistakable.  
She went away with another sigh and once out of the corridors of the castle, she looked up at the sky

"Yet, the future I see remains bleak."

* * *

12 Grimmauld Square

Sirius Black was a generally cheerful and very happy-go-lucky man. He could turn everything into a joke. But above all, he had never given up. In his eyes one could always guess and distinguish his iron will. He did not bother with anything and made the most stupid jokes. Often, he was helped by his best friend James Potter. They had never been seen without the other since Sirius had left the family home of the Blacks and had never returned. That morning, Sirius Black was not accompanied by James and found himself in front of his childhood home. No joy came out of his eyes usually so laughing. No, today Sirius Black was in a dark mood.  
He had just visited his dear mother (who had once again yelled at him for existing) about a family reunion. He immediately refused and was eager to leave fissa.

He went out of the house and down the stairs. He looked around and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. It was a very curious gesture: Sirius Black had never smoked, the smell reminding him too much of his childhood home. But the reason was very simple. Dressed in black, he went to Goddric's Hollow cemetery.

He found all his friends except Peter - the poor little rat was missing - and bowed to James. The latter did not seem to have slept and his eyes were red with tears. He held in his arms Maureen, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

"Padfoot ... If only I had"

"No, James, it was not your fault, just the Death Eaters, do not blame yourself"

In response, Sirius found himself in James's arms.

"Hmm, this never happened"

A disillusioned smile came to Sirius' lips.

"Of course"

The cortege began and all the dead of Goddric's Hollow were buried that day. That day was terrible and heavy in emotion. The tombs of the dead were only a fatal reminder of what the Death Eaters had done and perpetrated.

They buried Bathilda Tournesac, Trebois and many other witch families. Among all that, one could see the name of Harry Potter. The Potter's eldest son had not survived the attack and was counted among the dead children of England. A collective medal was handed over to all the dead in the cemetery but no one seemed to notice it: they were too much in mourning. After all, the dead would not return.

Life, however, resumed its course.

2 years after the massacre saw families reconstituted. Indeed, the traces of the last war were already fading and good humor was in order.

At the Weasleys, August 1987, a feast had been prepared. Although the family was very poor, she had gathered all the members of her family. Thus we could see the seven children of Molly and Arthur Weasley, the uncles and aunts as well as the two brothers of Molly, Fabian and Gideon. These two were joking with the two twins Fred and George on a prank to do. From the corner of her eye Molly watched them. She did not like this kind of conspiracy. She knew that at the end of the day there would be either food on the walls or that Percy's hair would once again be colored. The latter was going back to Hogwarts this year and the twins were amused to see having green haired scared the boy. After all, Percy did not want to go to Slytherin, so much that he was afraid of it. Molly sighed again and came to lay down the dinner on the table. "Dinner's ready!" she screamed.

Ron Weasley was already rushing to his mother.

"Yeah I'm hungry"

"You're always hungry Ronnald"

"Cho not true!"

"Oh but chew before swallowing ... and wait for the others before you start."

But it was a lost cause. Molly Weasley sighed before her son's scrunched up face.

Eventually the dinner ended at Molly's pleasure. The poor witch had run in every direction to satisfy her guests (and bring her children back). As she returned to the Burrow with Ginny - her only daughter, the small red head asked gently,

"Say Mom, you think we could invite Maureen to the house? Please say yes!"

Molly pretended to think before accepting with a smile. Her little girl answered him with an immense smile and ran to her room.

They had known Maureen Potter only 1 year ago. At that time, she was with her parents in a park. Ginny and she had naturally moved closer and they soon became inseparable. The Potters evidently looked bright. They held two children, twins, in their arms. Molly had thought they had to be very strong. They had managed to overcome the death of their first child and today, although infinitely inconsolable, had regained a smile.

Molly smiled and decided to call the Potters. She used the fireplace powder and fell face to face on Remus.

"Ah hello Remus I did not see you, I must have been wrong on"

"No, no, no, Molly, I've just gone to James's house, but uh ... How can I say ... Oh, yes, the twins are experimenting." He said, face red from paint.

Indeed, the twins Potter, Matthew and Doréa, both aged two were on the sofa in the Potter's living room, but no one could recognize them. They apparently had purposely changed their appearance to look like two drops of water. Right next door Lily Potter was busy:

"No, I can't believe it! They are twins and they use their metamorphmagus powers to be exactly the same!"

The happy babblings of the two children answered her as their hair turned neon blue at the same moment.

"... What am I going to do with them ..."

James Potter then arrived with Sirius. The two friends had a mischievous smile. James was walking towards the living room when he noticed Molly.

"Ah Molly sorry to have made you wait, the twins have done accidental magic and have repainted their room, and we have just discovered that they were metamorphmagus! This has not been seen in the Potters for decades! "

"Except for the Blacks" as Sirius and James left in a long conversation about which magical family had the most metamorph powers, Molly sighed. Fortunately Remus came to her rescue.

"Do not worry, I'll take care of them. Why did you come?"

A look full of relief came to meet Remus's eyes

"My daughter wanted to invite Maureen tomorrow to the house so I"

"Do not worry, I'll leave the little monster at noon tomorrow!"

"JAMES!" Lily indignantly "it's your daughter!"

"Yes well, she's yours too ..."

Molly retired with a thank you before going into a Potter dispute. Better to stay back with them. Finally she told herself that her family was rather quiet compared to theirs. Softly Molly came to everyone's room to wish a good night.

Tomorrow morning was a wonderful day. Until Fred and George decided that greasing the stairs was a good idea ... So it was a morning sermon that woke up most of the Weasleys. While everyone tried not to laugh (except Percy who thought it aberrant to do such a thing), the fireplace in the living room lit up. Large green flames gushed from the fireplace and expelled a Maureen Potter who was laughing to tears.

"Maureen!" Ginny rushed at her.

The two friends spent the day together and tried to force the broom to try to steal. Lost, Molly Weasley was watching. As the two girls returned to Ginny's room sulk, they were interrupted by noises

"Oh! Psst! Girls ! This way "

"Fred?" George? Did not Mum forbid you to leave your room? "

"Honestly Gin-Gin ..."

"... How could you ..."

"... Think once ..."

"... that we would listen to Mom? "

"Um if she catches you"

"Hush! Do not say misfortune! Come on, come on! "

"Yeah, we got a great thing to see! "

The girls then joined the twins, being careful not to put their feet in the piles of ... Things ... Doubtful and obscure things. It was then that the two boys handed them two racing brooms.

"Take our own!" "

"We do not need it today"

"On the other hand you owe us something ..."

The girls looked at each other and then smiled

"Deal"

That's how Molly Weasley found the two girls on the broom in the late afternoon. She could already hear the boys' remarks from a distance: "Go ahead, go faster!

As Ginny made a candle, Molly thought she died a little bit in the inside ...

* * *

"NO! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED YOURSELVES! ARE YOU UNCONSCIOUS OR! "

The sermon lasted a good half hour (and especially on the boys who had encouraged them) but no one regretted anything. The girls had to go back to Ginny's room with Molly for not "being corrupted by thugs." Once they were alone in the room, they burst out laughing.

"We'll have to do it again! When you come home again I'll arrange for Uncle Sirius to leave us broomsticks! "

"Oh that would be great! I'm waiting for that! "

" Yes ! You're lucky to have big brothers anyway "

"Whatever ... I do not know ... I have 6 of them, and at least one that serves no purpose ..."

" I have no big brother"

"What about Percy? He is like … a waste of space I think. You can have him if you want."

"Na he's not funny and he's way over the rules. I wanted to be big sister ... To martyrise little brothers or sisters! "

The conversation continued, and Molly, who was listening at the door, wiped her forehead. She knew that her daughter would already be trained in Quidditch and that she would come to love the sport, bringing her a lot of worrying. A sigh of exasperation came from her mouth as she went downstairs. There was food to be prepared for tonight.

* * *

Little by little the wizarding world was recovering from the war. Already in the streets the atmosphere was lighter, there was no more of this ambient misunderstanding. The children were squabbling and running in Diagon Alley, careless and happy. In every corner there were amusements and other small shops ready for anything to amuse and entertain the passers-by. The only changes were probably at the Ministry, where all the whole government had been pushed to a change after the Attack and disastrous handling of the situation.

This new era of peace also allowed people to forget. Thus, nobody ever dared to treat the Malfoys or the Lestrange of Death Eaters. No, for the magical community, they had been bewitched and turned into slaves of the black mage. If they were anything, these families were victims - or so would say the papers when asked. Yet a lot of people would always remember Bellatrix Lestrange's laughter and sadism. There was, however, no valid evidence except for eyes. Nothing could ever be done against her or the other Death Eater families.

* * *

Then the time passed by slowly. The wounds and scars closed until no more marks were left. Many events were forgotten and the great halloween attack was no longer a massacre but a simultaneous ambush. Yes, really, the country was better.

It was in the middle of summer 1991 that Hogwarts letters were sent. Owls flew by night and deposited the next morning a letter to the new students, all over-excited to finally be able to study at Hogwarts.

"This year was going to be interesting," thought Albus Dumbledore from the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Indeed this year the new generation of wizards arrived. A generation who had not seen the war. Or at least who was too young to remember. And especially this year the Survivor made his great return into the wizarding world. If he had met him from time to time in Diagon Alley with his parents, no one else knew where he lived. The parents of young Neville had put a point of honor on his safety.

This year, new heads would reappear. Malfoys, Greengrass, Goyles, Crabbes, Notts and Zabinis would also be entering this year. Perhaps one would even have the honor of seeing the Lestrange son scurrying through the halls of Hogwarts. Apart from this brief mention in the newspaper years ago, nobody had heard or seen him again. Not that Albus Dumbledore stayed in the very close circle of Pureblood would have meddled had he stayed around. A frown appeared on the headmaster's face. _That boy was resourceful enough to come at his parent's trials and leave without anyone seeing him. He actually made his mother stop confessing with a stare. If I remember correctly, it was because he was there that she stopped talking._

In general, the Lestrange had also withdrawn from public life. Bellatrix was sometimes heard working in the ministry with Rodolphus and Rabastan, but the son was never mentioned. Finally, maybe they were really trying to keep him safe and patiently waited for his comeback at Hogwarts, as did many people. Perhaps he would come in next year or two years from now. "One of many mysteries," said in the end Dumbledore. But it did not shock him any more than that. After all they were not the only ones in this case. The Mcmillians were doing exactly the same thing. With even more mysteries.

The letters arrived in the morning throughout the country. Each chosen house was invaded by the cries of joy of children. And the Weasley family was not spared either. So it was an overexcited Ron who burst into the Burrow's kitchen, obviously waiting at the window for his owl. Fortunately the owls did not take long and soon one could see on the horizon four Hogwarts owls carrying four letters of admission, one of which was dedicated to Ron. It was therefore necessary to leave for Diagon Alley and shop for supplies.

"No no Ron! We're waiting for your father to come back." Molly Weasley looked at her beautiful magic clock. She had 9 needles each representing a loved one to Mrs. Weasley. Suddenly Mr. Weasley's needle moved and stopped on "on the move."

"Go children, you go on a line. We're taking the floo-powder. And don't forget to articulate! "

"Yes mamma," the children answered in chorus.

Mrs. Weasley looked at them suspiciously, curious that nothing was happening today yet, when Mr Weasley broke into the room. He cheerfully greeted everyone, took some food and waited in line behind his children. Finally, with eyes gleaming with malice, he asked his wife innocently: "Are we going?"

The Weasleys burst into the Leaky cauldron and headed back to the rear to enter Diagon Alley. As every time they went, Molly directed her wand on the bricks and opened the magic passage. And as every time the children marveled. And above all, the disputes began.

"No we go to the Quidditch store first! Last year we did what you wanted! "

"No way, we go to Zonko, it's over there and they make the best jokes in the world!"

"Yes and then we'll have to go through ..."

"No, I'm the eldest, I decide. We'll go to Flourish and Bott "

" What no ! Daddy says something! "

All eyes were fixed on Arthur Weasley while Mrs. Weasley was trying not to meet the eyes of her husband. The latter had, therefore, to intervene

" Let's go, let's go. We'll go first to Gringotts and then we'll part. A group will go with your mother to Flourish and Bott and another will go with me for the rest of the supplies. We'll see the other stores afterwards. What? "

Looks that promised a thousand revenge if they could not go to the stores they wanted to told Mr. Weasley the day was going to be long for him.

Finally, after having been able to remove the few galleons that remained in the family vault, the Weasleys all went together towards Flourish and Bott. They saw Sirius and James. The two men made great gestures to greet them.

"It's been a long time Arthur! "

"Hello James, Sirius ... uh we saw each other this morning, did we not? "

"Haha no. With Sirius we tested the long-lasting Polyjuice, and I can tell you that it works like Merlin's thunder! "

"You're completely crazy ..."

"We'll be the same Fred!" whispered amazed one George Weasley, stars in the eyes.

"I swear it Bro"

The twins clapped their hands in a masterly manner as if to establish a pact.

"Oh, but this is Hogwarts jokers! James! We must absolutely show them you-know-what and "

"That's out of question Sirius"

The white man sat down. Mrs. Weasley had spoken very lowly, which was always very bad sign in her house. Sirius immediately retreated carefully, making a sign to the twins, which clearly meant "later".

As everyone came out of the shop, an unpleasant news for the Weasleys came to them. Indeed, a man with smooth blond platinum hair and a large cane stood in the street with his son and his wife. No need for more descriptions. Mr. Weasley suddenly became red and begged his children to pass quickly without making too much noise so as to not attract attention. But it was not so. A family of redheads could not fail to go unnoticed. And Mr. Weasley paid the price dearly.

As he hoped to pass, Lucius Malfoy 's cane - because it was indeed this odious personage who was there with his son Draco and his wife Narcissa (still further back than usual). He apostrophized him:

"There, there Weasley, we no longer say hello to his superiors," gloated one Lucius Malfoy.

For any answer, Mr. Weasley became even redder if possible and grumbled a "Lucius."

"Come on Draco, we must change shops. If this kind of people is able to buy anything here, it obviously means this establishment is not respectable anymore. Standards are falling nowadays. Between your cousin and this … come one, you'll find your cousin's books later."

However, Lucius Malfoy did not seem to want to leave right away. A smirk and arrogant smile graced his face. Mr. Weasley seemed even closer to implosion. It looked like he was holding his breath in. Which, again, might be the case. He went through all the existing red tints. Soon, a new shade of red was invented.

"But would you look at that James. If it is not my dear cousin. Cissy how are you? Sirius came to the rescue of Mr. Weasley (who would probably have struck Lucius) and diverted Lucius's attention for a moment. The only reaction of the character was to squint his eyes.

"Black"

"I did not talk to you Lucius. I was talking to my family. But maybe you do not know that word. "

The reaction was immediate. Wands were raised faster than the eye could blink and a circle seemed to have been drawn.

"That's it, Lucius, we're going. Lower your wand." said Narcissa Malfoy, speaking for the first time.

The situation seemed suddenly more peaceful. The wands were being stored away, the conversation resumed as the Weasleys.

"Sirius, good morning. I regret that you could not come to the last family reunion, so you probably would have known that Lucius was part of the family."

Sirius turned with a very charming smile and nodded to his cousin, as if to say that her repartee had finally increased after many years and that he rejoiced. He replied with his most detached air as he led the Weasleys to a clear space and gradually moved away from the Malfoy.

"Unfortunately my dear cousin, I am more used to rubbing shoulders with what you people call "the undeserving"."

"You've never had proper habits. I did not take you for a coward Sirius. But there, it is clear that you are fleeing our conversation. "

Sirius stopped for a very short time. He immediately thought of all these times when he had been treated as a coward and to all the flashes of magic that followed these words. Sirius told himself he definitely could not use magic this time to escape what he would soon call torture. So he returned joyously to his cousin and said simply.

"Come on, I was just helping the Weasleys escape from the harassment of your vulture of a husband. It is all that is most honorable, believe me! With that, I leave you to your passions. "

And Sirius went off laughing. Yes tonight he would have a lot to tell to his dear friends.

The Weasleys therefore went the other way of the Malfoy, carefully avoiding them as the dragon's chicken, and went to the magic entertainment stores.  
After a good hour, Mr. Weasley took Ron to the wizard's dress shop. He let Ron go in and choose his dresses. Unfortunately for Ron, he found Draco there. They were the only two in the shop. With the manager.

"Weasley, we finally have enough money to buy suitable dresses"

Ron flushed but chose not to say anything. Draco immediately pounced.

"I bet you're gonna finish at Hufflepuff. But it is always better than Gryffindor. Anyway who would remember you, anyway. You're like ... the 10th Weasley to go there in as many years."

"Shut up, Malfoy"

"Oh but the weasel can talk. Do not worry ugly weasley, even people like you can find a place in the trash"

He left the shop with his robes and very proud of him; He also left behind him a Ron as red as his father had been before.

When Ron left the shop, he was still furious. He spoke to his father, who offered him his desolate smile and reassured him by saying that this kind of wizard was not worth half of all the dragon's gold. That seemed to put Ron in a good mood almost at once.

Ron met the rest of his family in the leaky cauldron. They sat at a table and chatted happily, as always. One could already understand that the twins had once played a trick on Percy who had received his prefect's badge and that Ginny was talking about the Survivor to his mother. The conversation stopped as soon as Ron approached the table. The latter stopped abruptly, not understanding silence. He asked "what?" Discreetly to Fred or George who nodded to look behind him. When he did, he noticed that the Longbottoms were there. The Survivor was surrounded by his parents (and the press) and he seemed embarrassed by all this attention. Unfortunately, in wanting to move and hide behind his parents, he moved a lock of hair that hid his thin Lightning-bolt shaped scar, and he attracted even more attention from the journalists. Obviously it was not the end of the rejoicings. The door of the shabby pub had once again opened and gave way to Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. Put side by side, one could see the resemblance between the two sisters. They both had thick black curly hair and a dull skin complexion. They also had the eternal gray eyes that marked the Black's features. But that was where the resemblance stopped. In short, Bellatrix was taller and wore more make-up than her sister and was especially more open and eye-catching than her sister.

The two sisters, however, did not even seek the attention of the media. They sniffed and looked badly at the journalists and Neville but nothing more. Bellatrix found a place at the bar with Narcissa and they began to speak softly. Things that came out most of their conversation was some incomprehensible words. However, _ungrateful, explosive_ and _degenerate_ were the words leaving the deranged witch. No matter what seemed to trouble her - and irritate her - at this point Narcissa was obviously trying to calm her down.

These were the only things Fred and George could understand in the midst of the hubbub and before their mother saw them, they ran to James and Sirius who were talking with their father. They thought the conversation too interesting to leave it out. When they made their discovery, Sirius exploded with laughter and absolutely wanted to know what could make his crazy cousin so enraged. Obviously James was of the same opinion. After all, he was curious to know what was the thing Bellatrix called "degenerate." They had not, however, the opportunity of knowing more, the two women in question had just risen and left. Bellatrix cast a particularly venomous glance at Sirius as if he were responsible for all the misfortunes of her world. The latter contented himself with a "Bella! It was a pleasure too! Before laughing with James.

In the end, the Weasleys returned to the Terrier, exhausted, and Fred and George were still punished for a dark badge changed / lost. Percy spent the end of his summer searching for his prefect's badge while Fred and George swore that they had not touched their brother's badge from Diagon Alley. This revelation did not reassure Mrs. Weasley that the twins could quite have thrown some delayed spell on the badge behind her back. Quite their style.

The summer had gone by at a crazy speed: between races, Quidditch games and the jokes of the twins - without forgetting the prefect's badge that Percy still did not find, it was not uncommon to see quaffles and Gnomes in the garden or even to see in the house of the Weasleys at the end of summer a kind of red insect with wings that squealed "help me" and fled every time Percy approached him. Strangely, the insect seemed to have a vague form of a P. It took three days for Mrs. Weasley to return Percy's badge to its original state. Yet, even though summer was finally coming to an end, it was soon time to pack. And there ... it was terror and panic. Between cries and tears, it was a very eventful evening that Mrs. Weasley passed. But even with all the precautions of the world, she knew that tomorrow morning would be even worse. They would probably be late. She sighed another sigh of contentment and went up to bed.

* * *

 **Leave a small review guys ! Tomorrow, next chapter ! Might be sooner though ;)**

 **And for the questions, the italics guy will come back, yes you know his name, no harry is not dead, yes he will come back - at a later date - and ... I suppose that's all folks ! Merry Christmas ^^**


	3. Letters, trains and friends

**Here we go guys ! Enjoy ot and thanxs again for the reviews, the follows and fovorites. It's sort of a filler chapter though. The real story is coming next chap. Still enjoy ^^**

* * *

 _Chapter 3: Letters, trains and friends_

September 1st was a busy day for everyone. King's Cross station was packed as usual on a day of re-entry, and around 9 am, many families accompanied their children and caregivers crossed an invisible barrier. Muggles did not see anything at all and did not understand anything about this mess ("who walks with owls as suitcases?" Asked an outraged lady with the face of a visibly muggled horse in front of a terrorized 1st year looking for advice). On the other hand, the sorcerers knew very well what September 1st meant: stress and tears. Parents met on the 9 ¾ platform and left their children until Christmas or until Easter. But the most interesting thing was to arrive early. Indeed there were several advantages to be first on the dock. Already one could observe all the other arrivals and laugh well in his corner when a person fell. Then, for the student, he could choose his compartment on the train and be very quiet. And above all he could avoid the effusion of tears from his parents in front of everyone. Yes really there was everything to gain.

Still, when the train, the Hogwarts Express had to leave at 11am, there were always some latecomers. And the Weasleys did not fail to that rule.

The morning had really been a terrible one for Ms Weasley. All of her children who should have been up at 8 were not even remotely living. No, they had spent the night together, laughing merrily and – without her knowing too – had partied all night. And her husband Arthur, had not deeemed it necessary to say anything. Oh that man could hide behind the stove however he wanted, he would receive an earring when the children will be gone. A very serious one if the monstrosity she just saw was Percy's trunk. Fortunately, trunks were packed soon enough, and the big family could finally hurry to the train station. Amongst the terrible traffic and the squabbling of the twins, Ms Weasley almost gave up. But she was not known as a fearsome terror for nothing. A single look their way and she had a prized five minutes of utter silence. What a bliss. Then Percy actually had the gall to start a particularly uninteresting conversation with Ron – who was trying to finish his night against the window. And no one told Percy he was talking to a sleeping Ron. The poor child was furious when he realized ha had been talking alone. Ron, confused, was cleaning his mouth free of the saliva that had stayed stuck on the corners of his mouth. Besides the disgusting act, Ms Weasley ushered all of her children to go through the barrier and take the train immediately.

So it was 7 Weasley who ran to the muggle barrier. Luckily, they arrived around 10:40, just enough time to put all of his children on the train with their trunks and bid farewell and recall the safety instructions.

"Fred George, no nonsense, you'll take care of your brother"

"Yes mamma," said the two redheads in chorus.

"And then you know us, we would never harm the little Ronnikins," said Fred, or perhaps George.

"That's what scares me," Mrs. Weasley grumbled.

"Nonsense boys. You write every day and if I ever get a letter from McGonagall because you snatched the toilet bowl ... just beware! "

"But who said we would do such a thing! "

"Whatever you say now ..."

"It might be a good idea ..."

"Ginny, we just found you a great gift!" "

"George! "

"No, my name is Fred! And you dare say you are our mother! "

"That's outrageous Madame!" "

"Oh, that's enough, Fred George, whatever. Get on this train and do not do stupid things. Otherwise I'll send you a howler which you will remember. You hear me boys! "

"Yes mom. It's clear. Very clear "

And on these last words, the twins disappeared in one of the wagons of the Hogwarts Express with a Ron in a hurry to leave his mother. But he was stuck in his mother's embrace.

"Mom, you're choking me! "

"Oh you'll miss me, eat well and have fun. You study every night and ... »

"Molly you really should let go, the train will leave without him otherwise" joked Arthur Weasley

The latter made a weak wave to his younger son as a goodbye and let him slip on the train in search of an empty compartment.

Eventually after an eternally long time, 11 o'clock struck and the Hogwarts Express started. On the dock, all the families were afraid to say goodbye to their children. Ginny was already crying. His father reassured him as best as he could.

"You know you can see Maureen even more and next year you too will get on the train. A year goes by very fast ... »

But that did not seem to be enough to calm her down. Ginny glanced past the train in front of her sadly. She took refuge in her mother's arms and the three Weasleys slowly left for their little car. On the way back they met Sirius and Andromeda Tonks. Curiously, he was not with James and seemed to laugh with his cousin. When they saw the Weasleys coming towards them, Sirius motioned them over to explain what he had just seen and made him laugh.

"Ah Arthur, Molly ... and little Gin-gin," she stuck her tongue out when her mother wasn't looking, "Ah if you knew ..."

"Begin at the beginning and maybe it will help." said Andromeda exasperated

"Yes good idea. So as you know I was born in "

"Sirius"

A smile answered him

"Quiet Andy, I'm coming"

By the answer, Andromeda rolled his eyes as Sirius continued his narrative.

"No, frankly I was accompanying Andy and her daughter, Nymphadora, to the Hogwarts Express - you know she's going to go back to the 4th year and that"

"Sirius!"

"Yes, well if we can't even be a little proud of his family. "

A smile appeared on her cousin's face.

"Keep on going "

"Yes, then, when the train was leaving, we saw Cissy and Bella bringing their offspring. At least that's what we thought with Andy then we saw Lucius and Rodolphus on the other side of the dock speaking with Draco - the Malfoy's son." explained Sirius to Arthur whn he pulled a face. "It was rather bizarre that Narcissa was not with her son, but when we looked closer we realized that they were looking for someone specific. Or something. And you know the best? "

"No Sirius," Arthur said patiently, feeling that he was soon going to be exasperated.

"Bella had lost her kid!" Sirius exclaimed, he continued at the lack of reaction of the Weasleys and to the face of horror that Molly wore, "No but I mean like ... disappear. He was no longer there. Faded away. Long gone! The son of Bellatrix! And the worst is that when the train started to leave, a window opened and somebody launched a great "Aunt Cissy, dear mother that is a farewell! " In a theatrical voice and then a kid who looked a little too much like his mother if you want my opinion threw a bomb on Bella! Well of course she avoided it but nevertheless! He had the nerve to throw a bomb on Bella! Wait I repeat, you do not seem to understand, on Bellatrix Lestrange! Hell, that is pure insane _art._ He narrowly avoided the evil spell of the old owl, but ... damn was that beautiful to see. He is unique and not like his parents. It's great to see. Warms the heart just a little bit to know. There is somebody to take my mantle."

A white Molly on the verge of a nervous crisis (it was too much incensed in her head not to be able to defy parents).

"No, but am I the only one to find it interesting or what! And then you did not hear her scream of rage after that? It shook the whole station I think "

Sirius then tried a truer than life imitation of Bellatrix (and masterfully so) in what looked like _come back here brat_. Andy burst out laughing again with Ginny, but neither Arthur nor Molly seemed particularly enthusiastic. The only reaction was a

"Oh, poor child, he must be traumatized! Being attacked by his own mother" from Molly.

All the others looked at him as if a second head had grown out of him. Finally, Sirius left grumbling about no one understanding his humor and that only his soul brother could be on the same wavelength as him. He disappeared under the laughter of Ginny and the smile of Andromeda who apologized and went to the chimneys.  
Finally the three Weasleys returned to the Burrow more or less happy.

* * *

In the Hogwarts Express, students were still trying to find a seat. So it was an annoyed Ron who noticed that no compartment was empty. He blew a good shot and headed for a compartment where obviously there was only one person. A black-haired boy was facing the glass. Timidly, Ron approached and knocked against the compartment door.

"Um, excuse me, but can I sit down?" All other compartments are filled »

The unknown boy sharply raised his head and gave a big smile

" Of course. Come on. "

He helped Ron put his suitcase in the baggage net and Ron was particularly grateful to him. He told himself that eventually he had been quite lucky to come across a nice person and a first year also visibly. Ron, who was rather shy, said,

"Ron Weasley. Pleased to meet you "

"Neville Longbottom, likewise," said the stranger, shaking his hand.

Ron's jaw dropped off.

"What ... but, so that means you've got you ..."

"Uh ..."

"A scar," Ron said softly

Neville burst out laughing, but with a bitter laugh.

"Yes," he pointed to his forehead, raising the few locks of hair that covered the scar in the form of lightning, "but you will not mind if I don't really want to brag. I don't remember anything, so there's not much glory in this dark mage story." replied a seemingly annoyed Neville. Then suddenly he became very shy.

"But ... Uh, would you like to be my friend anyway?" He asked.

"Yes, Yes," replied Ron eagerly to try and shake the weird atmosphere away.

There was a silence when finally Ron diverted the conversation on quidditch. Joy could be seen in Neville's eyes who replied that he did not know much but that he knew two three teams. Obviously Ron was horror-stricken and launched on a monologue on the glory of Quidditch and Neville and Ron became friends almost immediately. The journey had begun for two good hours when one knocked again at the door of their compartment. A boy (of first year also visibly) arrived breathless.

"Hurry, I have to hide. sorry for the inconvinience."

And he dived under the benches and remained in that position for two minutes. In the corridor people could be heard shouting "he went over there, catch him!". Four third years ran and passed their compartment. They had all blue hair on. Ron whistled.

"Whoa! How did you do that? "

"Are they gone first?" "

"Yes" Neville continued, "How did you do to give them blue hair? And why? "

A boy a little taller than average, with a dark complexion and stiff brown and black hair, got up. He had a mischievous smile at the corners of his lips and deep blue eyes.

"Ah if you knew," he whispered in a dramatic tone, "Thy little me was just entering an empty compartment when suddenly three Slytherin beasts wanted to throw me out. Naturally I raised my wand and paf, here is the result! "

"They still put you out in fact"

"... yeah all right ... I did my best ..." the boy scowled

Neville and Ron burst into laughter and fell silent when they saw that the boy had his wand in his hand.

"Uh, what is it made of?" Neville asked timidly.

The boy's eyes became more piercing and suddenly he changed his attitude and burst out laughing.

"Haha I got you guys. Do not worry, I will not cast spells! In fact my wand is ebony oak wood and it is made of a phoenix feather. 25 cm. In short, not very exciting. And you?"

The two boys answered nevertheless.

"But I know you! You're Neville Longbottom?" Suddenly threw the new boy.

"Uh yes ... but if you could ... not point it out ... That would be appreciated." mumbled weakly Neville, his cheecks reddening uner the new boy's inspection of his forehead.

"Awesome!" the boy ignored Neville, "When I think of all the jokes I'll be able to do on your behalf ... " he mumbled.

Again the three boys laughed. Finally Ron spoke up and asked the mysterious boy to reveal his name

"Baelfyre Black, yes because of the Chinese dragon, I know it's rotten but well, it's my name. Call me Bael or Fyre, it'll be much better. " he grinned

"Black!? You're a Black! But these are the darkest wizards I know! Cried Ron

"Uh no." deadpanned the the newly names Baelfyre awkwardly.

A blank and then another topic of conversation came quickly.

"You know what house you're going to be in?" Tried to relaunch Neville

Ron answered uncertainly:

"Gryffindor, all my family went through there ... then"

Baelfyre replied immediately:

"It is not your family that counts! It's your opinion and your character. Look at me well Ron, my whole family wants me to go to Slytherin because it's a "noble" house but I'll tell you directly what I want, I'm targeting Gryffindor because I think I'm brave enough. And not loyal enough or mischievous to go to Hufflepuff or Slytherin. And frankly why not Ravenclaw also. No, what really matters is your will! "

There was an admiration in the eyes of the other two boys when they heard this empowering speech.

"But you're not afraid your family will ... you know..."

"Yes, but I do not want to go to Slytherin. This would show my mother how much I would never be the son she hoped for. Tch! If I followed her advice I should not even talk to you guys! And you Neville? "

" Me?" he shrugged, "Really everything suits me but I am convinced that Hufflepuff will be my default house. I do not have the courage of my parents ... already for magic, I took my sweet time before doing some accidental magic. I thought I was a squib then ... "

"No, it has nothing to do with magic power. You will go to Gryffindor my friend because you will have the will! "

Strangely, although they all knew they could do nothing, Neville and Ron felt reassured by Baelfyre's words.

Finally the journey continued and the three boys tightened their bonds of friendship in front of a large pile of sweets of all kinds that Neville paid for. They saw many people pass by in front of their compartment (a girl know-it-all called Hermione - "you're Neville Longbottom! I know everything about you, I've read all the books!") That made Baelfyre laughed and made the other two worried for all the people who wanted to meet the Survivor - a test in itself for Neville who wanted to hide under the benches. Unfortunately all the good things have an end and once again the door opened.

"But it's a real broken devil's snare here! We go in however we want to!" Exclaimed Bael

The newcomer just glared at him. And then seemed to ignore the words.

"My name is Draco Malfoy, Longbottom. I came because everyone says the Survivor is here. I offer you my help (he reached out to Neville), you'll soon realize some families are to be avoided. I can help you choose correctly."

"I already know the difference Malfoy" gritted Neville.

"It means move out if you did not understand dumbass." Bael said when he saw that Draco did not seem to move. The latter turned quickly towards him.

" Who are you? Mudblood I bet. You ... »

"Tch, miss the catch friend. Black, I'm a Black »

"Impossible you lie, they have all been disinherited and the only one left is Sirirus Black and he has not had any children and"

"I think I know my name better than you Malfoy. Out cousin."

And then he shut the door in Malfoy's nose. He turned and laughed in chorus with the other two boys. The journey continued and this time nothing interrupted the three companions. As the night began to fall and the train was scheduled to arrive at the station at any given time, it was necessary to change and dress in robes. It was at this moment that Bael realized that he had left his suitcase in the compartment of the third years of Slytherin. He felt a cold sweat rising and he stayed there while Neville and Ron changed.

"Why don't you change?" Ron said looking at him strangely.

"... I forgot my suitcase in the other compartment. "

"Do you think they touched it?" You know we can still ask around for some help …"

"No, there are spells to prevent someone other than me from opening it. On the other hand I do not think I can go back into the compartment."

Bael sighed and looked through the window with a determined air. He stood up as if to leave when he was detained by Neville and Ron.

" You're crazy ! You want to be massacred or what! Imagine you havto beat a Troll! You can kiss Hogwarts goodbys if you enter a fight _before_ being sorted in a house!"

" Yes ! Stop ! I'll give you one of my robes. We are almost the same size anyway. So there it is. " urged Neville

"Oh, thank you guys. I was so scared." Bael said in a tiny voice as he put on the robes Neville had just given him.

Finally, the train arrived at the pier and the students went out on the quay. From the air, one could have the impression that hundreds of ants were coming down from the train. In fact, with their black uniforms, all the pupils resembled one another, at least especially in the first years. There were stories of students complaining of their journey and others very excited who were beginning to talk about classes. Among these students was Hermione Granger talking with Percy Weasley about these famous courses. The look of the three companions in hearing the bridles of this conversation was exasperated but amused. And Ron wanted to hide. "That was my brother," he grumbled. Neville gave him a smile of excuse and Bael replied that they would have the whole year to make him mad. Obviously, out of the three, Bael was the biggest joker. Ron told him he should show him Fred and George. The year promised to be very rich in emotions.

But this thought left his head when Neville, Ron and Bael went towards the end of the quay where it seemed all the first years were gathering. Indeed one could hear among the giant hubbub a "Through here the first years! This way !" As they approached the small crowd, the friends realized a giant was speaking and that his thundering voice carried far enough so that the whole population of the castle could hear it. It was Neville who recognized him at once and threw a "Hagrid!" very playfully. The giant half answered him with a slightly toothless smile that came from his heart.

"Neville! What a pleasure to see you again. I see you have made friends." he said, pointing to Ron and Bael, who looked at him in amazement. Hagrid chuckled and when he was certain that all the first years were right around him, he made them follow him.

Hagrid walked towards the exit of the station along a small alley. He picked up a skylight and lit all the others by distributing one to each student. When all the lights were distributed so students could see where they were walking, they continued ten minutes to walk towards a lake. All the pupils became more and more impatient and the noise of conversations resumed. Finally, after a moment that seemed eternally long to everyone, the students discovered that they were on the shore.

"This is the Black Lake. Especially avoid falling. We do not want you to be late and wet for your first entrance to the castle!" Hagrid laughed. Nothing seemed to vex him apparently.

"Good. Make groups of four and get into boats. They should not be late. Ah, there they are, look!"

And indeed boats were seen floating on the water of the lake and advancing towards them. Obviouslyly, magic was at work. Or else creatures in the water were pushing the boats forward. That's what Bael thought. To verify he approached the shore and marveled when he saw shining creatures on the surface of the water. These seemed to have blue-green scales and it was very difficult to distinguish them. While he was going to plunge his head into the water, Hagrid held him back in laughter once more.

"Nah, do not do that, after that you'll get wet and you'll catch cold!"

"But there's something under the boats, I'm sure of it I saw them!" "

"Haha, maybe who knows. Professor Dumbledore takes them by magic, but from time to time creatures from the lake accompany the boats. You were very lucky to see them. Normally they are very sensitive and shy creatures. Well, enough chatt, go up, and en route to the castle. "

As soon as the students got into the boats, everyone leaned over to see if there were any creature in the water under the boats. Unfortunately no one could see anything and many were called to order by Hagrid not to tip the boat. Finally, as the boats slipped slowly and the students began to invent games more eccentric than the others (who imagine counting the sounds like a game! Or that brushing the water with the skylight is a good idea? Hagrid called them out of his boat (a little bigger than the others and probably more resistant too).

" Look. We can now see the castle! "

Indeed, once a bridge passed (nobody seemed to have seen it before and Hagrid had to warn everyone to bend down) Hogwarts Castle was visible and it shone with a thousand lights that night. At least that's what all the students thought. In each boats could be heard exclamations of stupor rise in the air. Some just kept their mouths open and their eyes wide open as if to verify that the castle would not disappear before their eyes. It was beautiful with its towers and statues. It looked like a medieval castle (which was probably the case) and Neville asked Hermione why she frowned. She answered him in an evident way that if the castle was as old on the outside as inside, it would be a matter of concern. And she began to enumerate all the possible problems that this could pose. It was Ron who told him stunned:

"Magic exists also you know ..."

Hermione blushed to the root of her hair and was silent as she looked at the castle with stars in her eyes. Nevertheless, in Neville's boat, they all smiled after Hermione's rant. Ron still seemed to sigh a "What's her problem?" but a nudge from Neville reminded him that Hermione was a Muggle born and that obviously seeing a medieval castle where one could live in was unreal for her. Not that it was not for Neville Bael and Ron either.

After a few more minutes of slipping, the students were able to get off the boats, but again the giant half asked for calm and discipline. It took some time because the 11-year-olds absolutely wanted to move and see the castle. All had only one thought in mind. So, of course, when the students got out of the boats, a few people wanted to detach themselves from the group and examine the surroundings. Unfortunately there was not much to consider. They were on a bank and the only things around them were trees and bushes.

"We're in Hogwarts Park. You will have plenty of time to visit it next time. This time hurry up, we are waiting for us in the great hall. Hagrid ordered.

All the students then reformed the ranks and followed Hagrid through the park, lit by torches and luminous balls floating in the park (by magic). They climbed up an alley and came to a large door (finely worked, one could see that the carvings that decorated the outline of the door itself and shaped it. it constantly changed its style as if it sought a particular form without ever being satisfied) which must surely lead to the hall of the college. All the students waited while holding their breath as the door opened. Finally after 11 years of waiting, they would be able to penetrate the places that their parents had traveled many generations before. It was very exciting.


	4. Hogwarts

**Here we go for another chapter ! Enjoy, read and reviews guys ^^**

* * *

 _Chapter 4: Hogwarts_

"You will soon realize that the castle has its own conscience. So avoid inadvertently insulting it or you might find yourself in a hole where it could rain on you for days! It's already happened "

There was a movement of retreat in the small group of students who followed Hagrid, and Ron and Bael looked at each other with the same gleam in the eyes.  
After a short wait (a few seconds in fact), the doors opened and Hagrid led the children through the castle. Here again everyone marveled at the castle. The walls seemed blurry as if they could change their appearance. Indeed, the students realized that a bench had just appeared on the wall and that paintings were constantly moving. By themselves. It was an impressive experience and all the students had a smile on their lips. There was not a single sad face. They continued on their way and went through stairs and were welcomed, at the top of stairs wider than the others, by a woman with a very strict appearance. The latter had her lips pinched, as if she was unhappy and she wore a very tight gray bun that accentuated her strict air. Her emerald green dresses and hat seemed to move slightly when nothing evidently made them move. A glance of the person on the group of noisy students silenced all conversations. They all understood the old lady should not be opposed.

Ever.

"Ah Professor McGonagall! Sorry, I'm a little late but the students are all there." Hagrid apologized. He blushed a little under the intensity of the professor's gaze. She looked away again and came to ask the students.

"Thanks Hagrid" said the witch. "I'll take care of them now."

The witch cleared her throat slightly before adressing the first years students. "Welcome to Hogwarts!" Said Professor McGonagall. "The banquet of the beginning of the year will soon begin but before you take place in the Great Hall, you will be sorted in different houses. This sorting is a very important ceremony. You should know, that throughout your stay at the school, your house will be for you as a second family. You will follow the same courses, you will sleep there in the same dormitory and you will spend your free time in the same common room. There are four houses. They are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own history, its own nobility, and each has formed wizards and leading witches over the years. During your years at Hogwarts, whenever you get good results, you will earn points to your house, but whenever you break the common rules, your house will lose points. At the end of the school year, the house with the most points will win the Four Houses Cup, which is a great honor. I hope that each and every one of you will have a heart to serve his house well, whatever it may be. I advise you to enjoy the time that remains before the beginning of this ceremony to look after your outfit."

On these last words, her gaze lingered on a few students, including Neville, whose cape was tied loosely (he had thought that the bench the castle had made appear would remain but when he sat down to rest for a few seconds, he had fallen to everyone's laughter and had not had time to rearrange his robes when Professor McGonagall came) and on Ron who always had a stain on his nose (Hermione had pointed out to him but Ron had chosen not to listen to her thinking it was a joke). Her eyes lingered for a moment on Draco who shone with arrogance and on Bael who seemed to challenge her gaze. A flash passed into the teacher's eyes, but Bael was unable to say what it was. With a feverish gesture, he tried to straighten his hair, but it was a lost fight. His brown mid-black hair seemed to have a life of their own and they had obviously decided to do what they wanted tonight.

"I'll pick you up when everything is ready," said Professor McGonagall. "Wait for me in silence. "

"So, what do you think of it?" Bael asked excitedly to a very pale Ron and an extremely shy Neville.

"I'm scared, it makes me feel uncomfortable. How could you look at her like that?"

A bright smile answered Neville. The latter sighed and began to grumble that he would never go to Gryffindor. The panic began to be read in Neville's eyes and Ron trembled. Hermione seemed to repeat all the spells she had read in the books. Bael looked at them without understanding. The only thing he wanted to do was show the world he was ready to take them all on. Likewise, Draco had exactly the same look, Neville thought. He had tried again to apostrophize Neville (failure) and fell back on Bael. The two had begun a small banter, both of them sporting savage smirks - according to Neville. And before the anter could escalade into a fight, one hand patted Draco's shoulder. The professor had returned and was probably angry. Draco immediately stood in the ranks and avoided the teacher's eyes as much as possible. Neville Ron and Bael smiled and Hermione glared at them. On her lips the words "troublemakers" could be read. Some leagues away, one Lily Potter was cursing James and Sirius, dubbing them as evil doers.

"Let's go now," said an abrupt voice. "The ceremony will begin."

Professor McGonagall then took all the scared students in the Great Hall where hundreds of former first years students heads were watching them. They were all sitting at four tables. At the back of the room another table, that of the professors, and just before a stool had been installed. The stage fell even more in the ranks, and Neville caught sight of Ron's brothers (impossible to miss, they were already making troubles and trying to make the first years passing by them laugh). He saw Ron was still a little pale and Hermione was still muttering dozens of spells. He looked vaguely at the ceiling, knowing Hermione would know why it looked like heaven when he noticed the look on Draco and his acolytes (two gorillas that stuck to his sides as if he had a glue spell applied to his body). They were fixed on professor McGonagall's movements. And there was something about it, she had just taken out a rag without form and who spoke. Bael whispered in his ear "It's a magic hat."

The professor's words which followed confirmed the words of Bael. He smiled at Bael and he winked back at him. Obviously Neville observed, even Bael felt some degree of fright. He clenched his fists very hard and left his arms stretched like bow strings near his body.

Then, suddenly, the hat began to sing:

"I am not of a supreme beauty  
But we must not trust what we see  
I want to eat myself  
If you find more clever than me.

The high-form, the splendid hats  
Pale face to me  
Because at Hogwarts, when I decide  
Each one submits to my choice.

Nothing escapes me nothing stops me  
The Choice is always right  
Put me on your head  
To know your house.

If you are going to Gryffindor  
You will join the brave, the boldest and the strongest  
Are gathered in this high place.

If at Hufflepuff you go, Like them you just go and loyal  
Hufflepuffs like to work  
And their patience is proverbial.

If you are wise and thoughtful  
Ravenclaw will welcome you  
There, they are scholars  
Who want to know everything.

You'll end up in Slytherin  
If you are rather smart  
For these are true rogues  
Who always achieve their ends.

On your head ask me a moment  
And do not be afraid, remain serene  
You will be in good hands  
For I am a thinking cap! "

At the end of the Sorting hat song, the whole Great Hall began to cheerfully applaud. It was when the headmaster (seated in the middle of the professors' table with his eternal half-moon glasses and his silver beard) waved his hand that calm finally returned to the Great Hall.

"When I call your name, you will put the hat on your head and sit on the stool. "

Professor McGonagall's voice pulled Neville out of his reverie and watched the professor. She took from her pockets a roll of parchment which she unfolded very slowly to Neville's taste. She moistened her lips and began to call the terrified students one by one.

Neville looked at Ron and blew very slowly through his mouth as if holding his breath. He hoped his name would be on the list. He was afraid that there would be a mistake and that he had to go home by himself.

"Abbot Hannah," Professor McGonagall said in a very harsh voice.

A blonde student, looking a little lost, advanced towards the stool, "HUFFLEPUFF! Cried the Hat after a few seconds. Applause rose from the table to the left. Neville took a deep breath.

"Black Baelfyre," a silence fell in the Great Hall.

Whispers of "Black! "He is a Death Eater!" was heard. And some professors raised their heads.

Neville saw his friend stiffen and walk toward the stool with his head held high. The teacher dropped the Hat and Bael relaxed. A long moment passed and Bael turned his head a little to the right and then just to the left. Neville realized that his head was now heading for the Gryffindor table, sometimes for the Slytherin. He held his breath. Neville glanced at Ron, who seemed to be encouraging Bael in a low voice, advising Gryffindor. And then it was the voice of the Hat who brought deliverance: "GRYFFINDOR! "

Bael got up very proud of himself and walked to the Gryffindor table with a few applause from the professors and students, his dresses turning red. Ignoring the murmurs of the students who wondered if he had not cast a spell of Confusion at the Sorting hat, Bael sat at the table. After all, the Blacks were usually sorted in Slytherin, it was a well known fact. Neville felt his throat constrict for his friend. Whatever he said, it was not that easy to ignore people's opinion. He would know Something about that. Neville then watched the rest of the ceremony and heard that Susan Bones had been sent to Hufflepuff and that Terry Boot was placed in Ravenclaw. The applause for each one was very low.

Neville could not help shuddering. He absolutely wanted the ceremony to end as soon as possible, and time seemed to have frozen. He looked at Ron, who stared back at him (and seemed to be starting a hyperventilation crisis too). He really did not have any luck because his name had to be at the end of the list (his surname started with a W after all, and they were only on the B's).

"Bullstrode, Millicent" thundered McGonagall

A student stepped forward, and found enough courage to put the Hat on her head. A few seconds later a mighty "SLYTHERIN" boomed and the rightmost table applauded. Brocklehurst Mandy and Brown Lavender were summoned and sent respectively to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. It should be duly noted that the gryffindors made more noise than all the other tables. Michael Corner and Stephen Cornjual arrived and both were sent to Ravenclaw.

"Crabbe, Vincent"

One of the two gorillas who were protecting Draco Malfoy stepped forward. He did not seem to understand what he was doing here (which was probably the case). He was sent to Slytherin and Tracey Davis too. It was then the turn of a certain Kevin to pass (he was completely terrorized that one, but he went to Ravenclaw) then that of one Seamus Finnegan. He went to Gryffindor.

The room held its breath.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" "

"Goldstein, Anthony"

"RAVENCLAW! "

"Goyle Gregory," Malfoy's other bodyguard stepped forward. He looked a little smarter than the other, Neville said to himself. Unsurprisingly he was sent to Slytherin.

He did not hear the name of the next person, too busy looking elsewhere, but he noticed that she went to Ravenclaw. She was a bit arrogant.

"Granger, Hermione," the young girl Neville knew stepped forward (he gave her a smile for the shape), always reciting formulas and then landed on the stool. Professor McGonagall then placed the Hat on his head to take it back almost immediately.

"GRYFFINDOR! "

A fleeting smile passed over McGonagall's lips and the applause of the lions' table roared brighter. When the calm was over, the distribution resumed.

"Greengrass, Daphne"

"SLYTHERIN!" "

"Hopkins, Wayne"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" "

"Jones, Megan"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" "

"Lee, Su"

"RAVENCLAW! "

Professor McGonagall scored a pause and frowned. She called out in a loud voice:

"Longbottom, Neville"

The silence was instantaneous. Already rumor that the Survivor was making his comeback echoed throughout the hall. The whole room held its breath, and all the professors became more attentive. Ron pushed Neville lightly with a word of encouragement. Neville slowly moved toward the Hat and sat down just as gently. His legs were trembling and his cheeks red. His heart beat faster and faster and he thought it was going to explode. He found himself wondering how Bael had done to appear so strong. Because he knew that there, he would not seem as reassured as Bael had been. The black came and he heard the Hat in his head.  
"

 _Come on, my boy, we must not doubt. So then ... yes, I see that you have talent ... but really the house Ravenclaw would not do. Slytherin. Yes, let's forsake that one for you. The path of greatness will not open to you unless you go to Hufflepuff my boy ... But I feel in your heart a great courage. On the other hand there is a lack of confidence ... hmmm ... not easy not easy._ "

"Not Hufflepuff, not Hufflepuff"

" _Not Hufflepuff?" Are you sure you're my boy? Hufflepuff would surely help you on the path of greatness but if you are really sure of yourself then it will be_ GRYFFINDOR! "

Neville breathed a sigh of relief and headed directly to the lion's table, who clapped harder than ever, shouting "Longbottom with us!". He almost forgot to remove the Hat to the professor but in the end he was very pleased with himself. He went to join Bael at the gryffondor table, who smiled at him with a little air of "You see, I was right." Neville smiled at him as well and then looked at Ron with a sigh. He really hoped that Ron would go to Gryffondor too.

The silence did not return to the Great Hall until after a few words from the director and the ceremony resumed its course for the third time.

"McDougal, Morag"

"HUFFLEPUFF"

"McMillian, Ernie"

"HUFFLEPUFF"

"Malfoy, Drago"

"SLYTHERIN," the Hat barely touched his head.

«Midwidgeon, Eloise»

"HUFFLEPUFF"

Among the applause, Neville and Bael heard Fred and George say that the Hat was rigged because they "all went to Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw." The two friends smiled and Neville later attended the passionate discussion that Bael and the two twins seemed to have. They had immediately taken Bael under their wings and realized that he was a joker first, like them. Neville thought he'd better watch his back because he heard in their conversation a piece that looked strangely like "prank war in common room." He swallowed and refocused on the ceremony. Another person had been sent to Slytherin, a certain Moon something. Neville watched Ron, still in bad shape and trying to send him encouragement. He thought he saw Ron faint, but he had to dream because he was still standing (even if he trembled like a leaf).

There were 10 students left.

"Nott, Theodore"

"SLYTHERIN! "

"Patil, Padma"

"RAVENCLAW! "

"Patil, Parvati"

"GRYFFINDOR! "

"Parkinson, Pansy"

"SLYTHERIN!" "

"Perks, Sally-Anne"

"RAVENCLAW! "

"Smith, Zacharias"

"HUFFLEPUFF! "

There were only four students left. Professor McGonagall resumed.

"Thomas, Dean"

"GRYFFINDOR! "

"Turpin, Lisa"

"RAVENCLAW! "

"Weasley, Ronald"

Neville and Bael saw their friend almost run to the Hat.

"GRYFFINDOR! "

A sigh of relief escaped Ron's lips and the whole table applauded even more. There was only one person left. The student in question appeared very frightened.

"Zabini, Blaise"

"SLYTHERIN! "

The applause of the table to the left was heard. Then, as there was no longer any pupil left to sort, Professor McGonagall removed the Stool and the parchment which she had just held in her hands and sat down at the professors' table. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, stood up and announced that the feast of the beginning of the year could begin. However, he uttered words in the most complete disorder and had no meaning (zing, sock and lemon?) And asked to sing the hymn of Hogwarts. He raised his magic wand and gold letters appeared in the air. These letters formed the infamous hymn of Hogwarts. All the students sang it in a totally different tone and the Weasley twins finished last in a funeral march tone

Without expecting it, Neville realized that plates, cutlery and glasses had just appeared on the table. The food soon arrived. He also realized that his belly shouted famine so he dived into the feast. The conversation slowly entered the table. He quickly realized that Gryffindor had the fewest first years, while all the other houses had about ten new students, while at the Gryffondors, there were only eight. This was no problem for Neville who listened to the conversation. Everyone showed up and he immediately liked Dean and Seamus. They did not mention the fact that he was the "Survivor" (unlike the other two girls who had been sent to Gryffindor) and he was grateful to them. Everyone at the table noticed that Bael was a joker. Indeed he had just started a battle of puree with the twins ("Whoever manages to touch Percy the Prefect wins a day of slavery of the losers!") Under Hermione's bewildered gaze and under the laughter of Ron and Dean.

Suddenly the ghosts arrived (a purée passed through a ghost with chains, the latter turned to know what it was and received two more spoons of puree.) Unfortunately, as it was a ghost, the mashed potatoes landed directly on the head of a Slytherin who did not understand what had happened to him. Behind some fifth year student, Neville saw Fred or George making a high-five at Bael). Neville nevertheless had the chance to meet the ghost of Gryffindor called Nearly-headless-Nick.

As the dessert had just been served and all the students were rushing on, a tinkle of glass resounded throughout the Great Hall. All the actions ceased for a moment, and ebery heads turned to the Great Table. Professor Dumbledore stood with his spoon and glass in each of his hands. He put them on the table and went to a desk that had just appeared. The owl, which served as a rest, snorted and stretched out its wings. Albus Dumbledore then began to speak:.

"Dear students, first of all I would like to welcome you to Hogwarts. I hope this year will happen without too many problems for all of you. I will, however, remind you of some instructions." A blank welcomed the director's words, "First of all, know that the guard of the place, Filch, has instructed me to remind you that it is forbidden to hang around the corridors after the curfew. Your prefects will make rounds with the professors to make sure that no students are in the corridors. I also warn that the Forbidden Forest is prohibited as its name says, and that it is absolutely useless to walk through the branches of this forest unless you want to disappear. Likewise I do not recommend you to approach the wilder Willow in the park. He is somewhat sensitive and quick to violence. So I would ask you to be as far as possible from the tree. You will also find in the office of our dear Filch the list of the 348 objects prohibited by the regulations." His eyes gleamed and sat briefly on the twins Weasley whispering something in Bael's ear. "However, this year there are some changes. The corridor on the third floor is therefore condemned. To all those who seek to visit that particular branch of the castle, I warn you, a terrible death will await you." The silence was very heavy in the Great Hall, and students were heard to swallow noisily. "But do not worry. Of course, you're not going to break the rules, so you do not have to panic. On this note, I wish you a very good dessert and a very good night. Your luggage is waiting for you in your respective dormitories. Your prefects will take you there and give you the passwords to get in your common rooms. "

With these very reassuring last words the director sat down and swallowed the rest of his lemon sorbet. Neville looked at his plate and finished what he had dejectedly. He noticed that the food (which was constantly coming back to the table) was beginning to disappear. Ron hurried and Bael took the whole meringue lemon pie instead of cutting it. It looked like these two had not eaten for years. They were made for each other.

It was then time to get up from the table and go to the common room. Neville wanted to follow Percy closely (he was prefect after all and he seemed to know what to do) but he felt someone pull him back. He turned and saw Bael, Ron and the twins. Apparently they had an idea behind their heads that did not seem to please Ron.

"We're going to take a little trip to the park, do you want to come with us?

"You're crazy ... I have no choice?"

"yep" says Fred or George

"You'll see it will be fun," said the other twin

"Yes, I'm sure we can drop a dungbomb on the walls and put down a delaying charm. Then we'll just have to wait for a student to pass under it to trigger an alarm that would make the bomb descend and baam! Sneak Attack!" Exclaimed Bael.

"Seems like that ... Aren't you afraid of getting in trouble?"

"In life, there is nothing but trouble!" Theatrically said Bael. The twins nodded and Ron burst out laughing.

"You're crazy, but I'll follow you. I want to be part of it. I will finally be free! "

"Oh little Ronnikins finally unveils! Fred it's a miracle! "

A kick came to land in George's shins. Ron did not like the nickname. Noted.

Eventually Neville followed them out and found himself smiling. When, after a few minutes, Fred and George had chosen a seemingly very used location, they had said (they were still fighting about where to put the dungbomb), and the dungbomb was in place on the well sheltered wall. (Bael did the spells under Fred's or George's instructions while Ron and himself were watching), a loud noise rang out. Everyone stopped. They looked at each other and walked back towards the hall.

Unfortunately they forgot Bael who was focused on his task. However it seemed that the person who trampled the ground of the park did not notice Bael. In fact, Neville noticed through the window that they were two.

"It's Snape and Professor Quirrel. I wonder what they're doing here," Ron asked. The twins just watched the scene with the utmost attention. As the two professors were quickly out of sight, Neville's scar burned.

"Ouch," the boy whispered. He rubbed his forehead and looked at the two men. Something told him that he was not going to like being in the presence of these two characters in class. He had seen Professor Snape at the Table earlier and he had really frightened him.

The door of the hall opened discreetly on a red Bael of excitement which signaled to them that everything was going according to the plan. He did not wait until tomorrow morning to see who would pass under the trap. As Fred or George asked how he had not been spotted, Bael frowned and said

"But there was no one in the park" in front of the uncertain looks of his interlocutors, he continued "I cast the spell and then you left. Then it was dark for a while and the castle walls became blurry for a few seconds but I thought I had to be tired. And when I had finished with the spell a door appeared and led me to you. "

The twins had tears in their eyes.

"Oh, Bael! The castle adores you already! "

"You're lucky that he's protected you!"

"Yes, it took us a year and a half! "

"You must not spoil such a gift! "

"Promise to get out as much as possible"

Bael's chest swelled in pride as he said, "Promise, swear, Merlin's faith. I'll take Nev and Ron with me. I can not do it alone. Hey guys? "

"We'll protect you," Ron said with the most confidence he could muster up.

Neville nodded, but thought no one had really asked him if he wanted to be part of the team. He sighed and thought of his mother who would soon shout at him if she ever heard of his actions.

"Look brother, we have small conspirators with us"

"Yes I see it Gred, this year is going to be great, I can feel it in my ears! "

Finally, the five boys slowly walked back to the common room, Fred and George (they particularly cared for Bael, according to them to "better get along with the castle") giving indications on what to do or not (But especially what to do anyway) at each corner and giving all the secret passages that they knew. They said, nevertheless, that there were many passages to be discovered.

"Our common room is on the seventh floor. Normally you will have the stairs to walk but we do have hearts… "

"So here's a secret passage! Tadà! "

They lifted a tapestry and a hole was behind.

"It leads directly to the sixth floor. From there you just have to turn right and go up the stairs. You will arrive in front of the painting of the Fat Lady. She keeps the entrance to our common room. You just need the password. And the Fat Lady must be cooperative ... "

"Yeah, it has already happened that she refuses the passage. "

"Uh," Ron tried, "but she is not obliged to open us if we have the password?" "

"So what brother, she just takes her damn sweet time. Especially when she does not love you »

"Especially when she loves you too much too"

"It does not make any sense!" Ron cried out.

"It's Hogwarts!" Said the twins in chorus.

Finally Bael interposed: "You have the password at least? "

There was a pause. Ron began to panic and said that he did not want to be expelled already. Neville felt his legs tremble, and Bael looked at the twins with a stiffening of his eyes (on closer inspection, Neville could have sworn he was imitating McGonagall).

"We got you guys. Of course we have the password. "

"Perce gave it to us just before we left with your little comrades," smiled Fred

He hurried to give the password (Caput Draconnis) to a suspicious and very silent Fat Lady before a professor came and slipped into the opening. He was followed by all the rest of the small group.

Once back in the common room, Neville immediately adored the decoration. It was red and gold with fireplaces, seats and red sofas everywhere. Some offices in the corners could be seen. Tapestries the colors of the house hung on a wall and behind them there was a spiral staircase leading to the girls' dormitories (the boys could not climb it up). He realized that the castle itself gave the furniture it wanted to the room. Fred and George confirmed this thought when they said that if they wanted to work one night they could ask the castle to provide a new desk and some quills. But just in the common room. Apparently in the dormitories, the will of the castle was non existent (apparently, there had been a dark story of a bedless pupil, a Slytherin moreover). Then Fred and George showed them a straight staircase near a fireplace (which could move from time to time, but was still straight, said George). The five boys became engrossed in it and saw, once they had reached the top, seven door frames with engravings marking the years of each one above each frame. So there were seven, all arranged to make a round.

"You enter your dormitory by that door." George pointed to the door where number 1 was engraved.

"The bathrooms are inside, and beside your bed waiting for you are your belongings," continued Fred

"Tomorrow you will have to get up around 7am or a little earlier and go down to the Great Hall to eat breakfast. McGonagall will give you the timetables then. The classes begin at 8 am, so mostly try to be on time the first day "

Neville gave them a grateful smile for the informations.

"If you need us, we're in the dorm with 3" Fred pointed to another door.

"Good night, we'll see you later"

"Bael, watch your back. With Fred, we give you a month before starting the war."

" I will be ready "

Ron snorted and smiled: "I will be with him too. And Nev 'too »

"Uh did someone ask me before ...? "

No one seemed to hear Neville as the twins said "Deal" before returning to their dormitory.

After a long day, Neville entered the dormitory with Ron and Bael. Obviously Dean and Seamus were waiting for them.

"So ! What have you guys done ?"

Neville grunted. He really did not want to explain tonight. It was Ron who brought him out of his torture and told the story. Bael had slipped into the showers. Neville went to his suitcase and came out to sleep. He noticed that Bael's bed had to be the one near the window: his suitcase had traces of burns, as if spells had tried to destroy the unfortunate suitcase. "They weren't that nice these Slytherins," Neville laughed. As soon as he put on his pajamas and extinguished the light, he fell asleep. The other boys did the same. Only Bael thought of waking up, which saved the pride of the other four boys for the first day.


	5. Missing student aboard

**Happy New Year guys !**

* * *

 _Chapter 5: Missing student aboard_

In another part of the castle (the dungeons) Severus Snape was foaming with rage. In his office he paced.

Normally Severus Snape was a person who kept his composure. He liked to surprise (and not necessarily for good) and hated to be surprised (especially as usually it was bad surprises that awaited him). Nevertheless, to make him so agitated, there had to be some great plan made by an evil little lurking worm student. But, this evening the potion master of Hogwarts was very agitated. Too excited. The greasy haired teacher sighed and took a potion from one of the shelves. He swallowed the contents dry and rested the bottle that contained the potion on the desk. He sat down behind his desk and rubbed his temples, then thought back to the evening. For Severus Snape, there were too many things wrong. First, school was back on. So that meant far too many happy students were there. Then he heard the name Black. The name of his worst foe. A bad joke was unravelling itself in front of him. Bu no. It was way too much real. Unfortunately, he had seen a boy detach himself from the lot of trembling little brats and advance towards the Hat. Particularly, it took a long time before Black was sorted in one of the houses. But what did not help his mood was when he heard gryffondor. Suddenly, he had just seen Sirius Black's face again. He had wanted to strangle the Auror. Even in his dreams.

He pulled himself together and resumed the thread of his thoughts. He had watched the little Black. Oh yes, he had watched him. At first he thought he was the son of his enemy. But he did not really look like him. Aside from the boy's behavior that was terribly the same as that of Sirius and a common surname, they had little in common. Severus knew they had to be part of the same family but he also knew that Sirius had no children. Lily would have told him. After all she was close to Sirius, not that he did not understand her stubbornness to remain friends with him.

To make matters even worse, he was persuaded that the new defense teacher against the Dark Arts was a hypocrite, a liar and a death eater. Or something close.

Quirinus Quirrel seemed to hide something but he would not have been able to say what. Be that as it may, he had seen him rode near the third floor and Snape had rushed after him. Their little meeting had continued in the park of Hogwarts but had not revealed anything. That had put Snape in a worse mood. He had then tried to return to the castle by the great door, but the latter had obstinately refused to open. The castle then had sent a storm of water over him. So it came as no surprise to see professor Snape in a sinister mood after he had to resolve to return to the castle by another passage. He chose the one that was in the back and had also to be careful not to fall into a hole the castle created at his good will and generally under his feet. In general, he knew the castle did not like him, but there he felt he had gained his ill-will tonight. So really there was something to be sinister about.

Finally, as director of the Slytherin House, he had to take a stroll in the Slytherin common room to see his new students. Upon arriving he had been surprised by the silence of his godson (not that it did bother him) but immediately saw that something disturbed him. And that obviously frightened the little brat. After making a charming first-year speech and uttering all the useless words that accompanied this joke of a welcoming speech, he had to send all the students back to their dormitory. He questioned Draco all the same. But Draco had refused to speak and cross his eyes, Severus was still able to use legilimency to discover what was bothering him. And what he discovered disturbed him greatly. He had sent Drago back to his informal dormitory and locked himself in his office while waiting to see the headmaster. He was going to have to talk to him but for now he wanted to rest.

After a few minutes, Severus Snape got up and took another potion from another shelf and embarked it with him. It was a potion of oblivion intended to make him sleep a little better tonight. He put it on a small piece of furniture (probably his bedside table, but nothing is more certain with a character such as himself). Severus then proceeded to pinch his lips and opened the door of his office. He then went out of the dungeons into his eternal black robes and climbed the few stairs leading to the director's office. Once he reached a courtyard, he turned to the right and spoke a few words in a low voice. The gargoyle in front of which he had settled opened negligently and left room for other stairs. These spirals stairs led to the director's office. Albus Dumbledore. Snape noticed that the door was ajar and without more ceremonies he threw himself inside thinking that the gargoyle of the entrance could be a little more amiable. He promised to say two words with Albus about it.

Finally, he noticed that there was already someone inside. Minerva McGonagall seemed to be sitting on one of the armchairs visibly in great conversation with the director. Snape pinched his lips once more. He really did not want to be there tonight. Especially if he had to see Minerva. The relationship between the two professors was chaotic at best. At worst ... better not to think about it. He smirked at the quidditch trophy that was taking dust in his office. He made a silent promise to make Minerva kindly notice that the cup was in his office - and had not budged - for the last six years. This should strongly displease her. And thus, strongly please him. Finally, he turned his attention to the director. The latter showed him an empty arm-chair with a wave of his hand. Severus looked at him coldly and simply refused to sit down. He did not take tweezers to begin the conversation:

"A student is missing."

The other two people in the room made no movement. They just watched him. That obviously annoyed Snape.

"You heard me very well. We lost a student. Gone. Away. I repeat, he is not there. "

"Come on, Severus, explain."

Severus Snape took a little time before continuing. He did not want to be the one to announce it to his mother. Thinking of his terrible mother, Snape trembled.

"Completely crazy," he thought. Nevertheless he continued:

"I just had a little interview with one of my students, Draco Malfoy"

"Nothing serious I hope," mocked Minerva McGonagall. A flash of impatience burst through Snape's eyes, he wanted this story to end as soon as possible.

"It turns out he was talking to me about his cousin whom he had briefly seen at King Cross Station and had not seen again at Hogwarts. He was to enter the first year too."

Dumbledore frowned and readjusted his glasses on his nose, a sign of concern.

"He should have been on Minerva's list. The register deals with it »

Severus nodded.

"Well he had to find a way to erase his name. And leave the train since we have no pupils in excess. I would not be surprised if he already knew how to use his wand given his family. "

Dumbledore crossed his fingers and looked at objects on his desk. Minerva cut the silence created:

"What's his name?"

"Xerxes Lestrange"

These words sounded like a knell and had the effect of a dragon in a room. Severus decided to leave as long as there was still time. He let out before going out, just to look good:

"I leave you the task of writing to his dear family. On that note, good night "

Finally, Snape smiled. Yes, it was not his fault if the son of Bellatrix Lestrange had decided to make the nigger. He could look aside the whole battle between Albus and Bella another day. Before returning to the dungeons in his apartments and going to bed, he still had a fleating thought for Draco who probably had to announce the news by letter to his mother, who would announce it to her sister. The reprisals were going to be severe. He fell asleep at once content with himself at Bellatrix misfortune.

* * *

The headmaster of Hogwarts was still sitting behind his desk when the potion master stormed out. He looked at sub-director Minerva McGonagall and noticed that she looked very pale compared to usual. She had her hand on her heart and seemed to be in a state of shock. Professor Dumbledore thought he probably was not be in a better state.

"Is it possible that he jumped off the train without being noticed, Albus?"

"Theoretically, it is quite conceivable. In practice, for a first year, this is impossible. And in the absolute, all children of noble families have a detection spell affixed to them before entering the train. When the student returns to the castle itself, the spell ceases to act." Faced with the shock of his teacher, he resumed "It is a very old practice and very little used nowadays but before the train was created to take all the students, it was common practice to make the journey by floo and walk from the village to Hogwarts. So it was not a long and complicated journey but every year we noticed that students were missing the call. This is why noble families protected their children by placing them under a detection spell that disappeared once the target had reached its destination. "

"But they are students! Not sheeps!"

"Unfortunately, I can not do anything about it Minerva. On the other hand we can be sure of one thing." Dumbledore stood up and walked to a wardrobe from which he pulled out his pensieve. "Little Lestrange was under detection. I did not receive a letter from his parents, so their son arrived at his destination. "

"You would have us believe he is in the castle! Albus it is unthinkable! That would mean the castle itself protects him! His name did not appear on the list of first years during the ceremony and the only ones able to modify this list are…"

"You, me and the castle ... I know it very well Minerva" Dumbledore raised his wand to his temple and a silver filament emerged from the temple. "Things get complicated. We'll have to look for the castle every night until we find him."

Minerva McGonagall who had just watched the director's movements so far, stood up

"And what do we do for his parents?"

"I'll take care of it" shuddered the headmaster, briefly closing his eyes.


	6. The first lessons

**I feel like I just want to post another chapter today ! So for thr first day of the year, here's a fat chap ^^ enjoy :)**

* * *

 _Chapter 6: The first lessons_

I _don't like remembering events to only endear you. These people I am writing to you about were real, passionate and caring. Now, they're … gone. Or at least the part that made them children. Me? I don't think I ever had the right to laugh. From the moment I entered this dimension of … well. I don't know. I just don't. I was a sentient being who could hear almost everything he wanted to. But I was doomed never to communicate. So I waited near those who would impact history. See, from where I stood, you could outline the faint traces of glory. Now I can't help but remind you of their greatness. We do all have our moment of weakness though …_

DRIIIINNNNG!

The dormitories of the first Gryffindor years were subjected at 7 o'clock in the morning to a deafening and strident bell. It reasoned the sleep out of the five people inside the dorm but still put the five residents in a very bad mood. While everyone grumbled in a corner (after yelling murder and abuse at Bael and his awakening - the latter had just smiled before waking up, his eyes _still_ _closed_ , as if it were possible after a ringing like that one). The five friends came down about twenty minutes later, dressed and washed, towards the Great Hall. They had, however, to face the mountain of stairs. Indeed the Great Hall was on the second floor and it took about ten minutes for the group to go down all the stairs and go to the right place (a striking spirit named Peeves had tried to cast chalks on Bael but the latter just send them back to him. Peeves had shouted and fled, and Bael did not even seem to understand what he had just done-which was probably the case).

Finally, Neville's group of friends found itself outside of the Great Hall. The latter literally seemed to have changed. The ceiling was covered with sunbeams (which fell in the eyes of the Slytherins) and on all the tables there was a real morning feast. The five boys paused and ran to their table to stuff themselves. Thus one could see in the morning a Ron grasping with one hand a sausage and the other a pancake drowned under maple syrup, a Bael emptying at a bewildering speed boiled eggs and bread (such a quantity of eggs in the morning could not be good for health) and a Dean and Seamus who spoke of the courses.

A few minutes later, they saw Professor McGonagall walking towards them to hand down the timetables. Ron and Bael did not see her coming and continued to eat by attacking respectively fruits and a kind of crepe / omelette with pumpkin juice? (Neville wondered if Bael really came from a psychotic Pure Blood family because he certainly did not have the attitude that went with it). Suffice to say that the professor looked at her two new students with an expression of great disgust if the delicacy of her lips was any indicator of her mood. She then gave each of them a schedule and left a scathing remark ("It's a school here, not a zoo") before leaving to hand the next schedules to the other students.

Also, just as Ron seemed to take his breath to eat, owls arrived in the Great Hall. There were many colors, all bringing parcels, letters from families. Neville, Ron and Bael raised their heads astonished until a bird droppings came to settle right next to Bael.

"Aaaand, that's Hades, my mother's bird. She always had a knack for dubious names" Bael said cheerfully, ignoring woefully the nastily ruined breakfast.

Indeed, an one-eyed and black as night bird (as sinister as his name), placed himself on the shoulder of the boy, bit his ears violently, took a part of an omelet from Bael's plate and set off again as if nothing had happened, leaving only a letter behind him. Bael was twisting in pain on the floor holding his bloody ear.

"What a little niffler! I'm sure he heard the remark on his name! "

Ron froze in his seat hesitating between laughter or not having an expression. He finally chose to help Bael get up. Grumbling that the bird was too intelligent for his own health, Bael sat down again. Something told Neville that it was rather on his mother's orders that the bird had attacked Bael and not on its own initiative. It did seem very convenient though.

"I did not think you had written to your parents last night. I saw that Ron had sent one at the same time as me but you were already in bed "

"Good, because I did not" Bael rasped as he watched his mother's letter as if it were an insult to his own person and dignity, but maybe that was the case.

Ron stopped eating again and looked at Bael:

"Mate, your letter smokes, is that normal?"

Indeed, the letter emitted a slight black smoke, not reassuringthe three friends at all. It mustn't have been a good omen because Bael's eternal smile (who had returned when he had laid eyes on his plate, even though his ear was still bleeding and there was a bird's dropping in it) immediately disappeared from his face. He took the letter very quickly and went away like a raptor without asking for his rest.

"I'll join you in transfiguration in five" and he disappeared from the Great Hall. A small explosion was heard.

"Ouch! I would not have liked to be in his place," said Ron,"He's going to have to go to the infirmary sooner than expected," he laughed. "Really a Howler the first day, it hurts ... He must have set a new record!"

Neville found himself thinking the infirmary was not really in his plans originally and he had even less planned to go through it in th year, but he let it pass. Then he thought that Bael's Howler, if that smoking letter was one, had looked more of a trapped letter than anything else. He had not even heard the shouting. Which, basically, comforted him on the thought of a trapped letter. It did not make him laugh but Ron definitely thought otherwise. That Weasley was as crazy as his brothers sometimes. But deep down, Neville knew it was a nervous laugh. He was the first to follow Bael in his delusions and knew that he would receive a Howler from his mother sooner rather than later (he had told Neville so the other night).

Instead of thinking about the misfortunes of his classmate, Neville instead opened his own letter and Ron did the same. Thanks to Ron's smile and probably his, he was immediately happier. His mother kissed him very loudly and congratulated him on being sent to Gryffindor. She then went on to say he should not get into trouble and avoid Malfoy at all costs. She was also proud he had made friends so quickly. He had spoken briefly about Dean and Seamus but he had lingered on Bael and Ron. Ron must have described the same thing and smiled brightly.

So they both slowly walked to their common room to pick up their belongings and head for the transfiguration room. They passed by Dean and Seamus on the road, waiting for them, and all four came to wait in front of the closed door of the classroom. They discovered with joy they had their double course of transfiguration in common with the Slytherins and that Bael had not yet returned. Neville sighed and wanted to put himself on the side so as to not draw attention to him, at least not more than necessary, but it was a lost fight: Malfoy had just antagonized one of his classmates, Hermione Granger and pointed toward her the end of his wand, ready to cast some obscure spell. While he was going to react and cast any spell (when he knew none), another spell shot at the blonde boy. Neville turned and saw Bael in the corridor with his wand raised and a big smile on his lips:

"Come on, cousin. Today is only the first day of classes. You should not have an hour of detention for such a futile reason. Your mother would not want to know that you had so little vocabulary you had to use your wand to defend yourself – and fail spectacularly at that" Draco Malfoy paled and stepped back. Obviously Bael's words had fazed him enough not to bully anyone around him. Hermione thanked Bael immediately and gave him a dazzling smile.

"Bael? Is that right? Did you know your name meant Beauty in French?"

Bael's smile dimmed. He coughed softly in his hand.

"It does not spell the same. It's _belle._ And Bael is short for Baelfyre. You know the chinese dragon … or … just, whatever. Don't bring that up again. It's embarrassing enough."

His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but Neville knew for a fact Bael was embarrassed. And if Malfoy were to learn that particular meaning of his cousin's name … oh, Hogwarts would have a field day. Nonetheless, Bael manned up and approached Malfoy again. He said very loudly:

"Say, you smell really weird dude. You mistook a dungbomb for your shower gel or what? "

Neville and Ron could not help laughing. Malfoy must have fallen under Bael's trap this morning. Malfoy spit back some mighty insults but that went unheard on Bael's part. He was actually willingly ignoring the Slytherin boy, undermining the small authority he had gathered amongst his own house-mates.

 _You should have been in Slytherin …_ thought Neville when he realized Bael's game, who was still laughing at one of his joke.

While Bael entered the classroom with Dean and Seamus (the door had just opened and the students were engulfed in the opening by the stream), Ron and he noticed that their friend had still a bleeding ear and that some of his hair seemed scorched. Neville's hypothesis of the trapped letter was becoming more real by the second. Ron then tried to ask why Bael had attracted so much anger, and by his own mother too. Bael swept his question away. It was obvious he was hurt by his mother's actions anyways.

As Ron, Neville and Bael walked into the room and moved on the second row, they noticed that Professor McGonagall had not yet arrived. Neville talked about it to Ron who just nodded and then engaged in a conversation about how Malfoy had to fall into the trap. Bael tried to make his outfit correct when he stopped suddenly and fixed in a rather disturbing manner a cat that had just entered the classroom. This cat then sat down on the desk and waited seated. Although it seemed the cat was a bit too rigid to be a real cat, Neville thought it to be someone's pet (after all, the animals were free to go and come throughout the castle). He noticed for a moment Bael and the cat fixed in their eyes and began a battle of glance but he had to imagine it. Which sane person would try to eye-glare-contest a cat?

Finally, he noticed two Slytherins were missing the call and the bell had already rung. They arrived three minutes later. Three minutes spent in utter silence too. Wih a cat on the desk. Neville actually saw Ron sweat-dropping.

"Dear Merlin, come Theo, the old hag isn't there yet"

A grimace from Bael made Neville and Ron understand that Blaise Zabini (because he was the one who had just spoken) was wrong. Terribly so if the slight green color of their friend was true. Both Gryffindor tracked his glance back at the cat before shutting their mouth, absolutely scared through their wits. The cat had just moved and had made an impressive jump to become Professor McGonagall just before their very eyes. Neville almost had an heart attack despite knowing before-hand of the transfiguration. But he should have expected it. Well, Professor McGonagall was teaching transfiguration so naturally, she had to be the best, or one of the best in her field of work.

"May we know why you are late Mr. Nott and Mr. Zabini?" The professor's dry voice and her quivering nostrils made the two pupils turn pale (Neville swore that lightning could have come out at any given time).

It was a stuttering Nott who answered:

"We got lost professor ..."

McGonagall slammed her heels and went back to her office after glaring thoroughly at the two suddenly very small students.

"Let it not happen again. If I ever surprise you late, one more time, at one of my courses, you will be forbidden to come back. Ever. Do you hear me? Good, now, I do not need to transfigure one of you into a pocket map for the two of you to know right the way, this time" the sarcastic tone made some gryffondor laugh but the transfiguration professor's bitter look calmed everyone. Duly noted, no jokes in transfiguration. Neville literally saw Bael write it on a parchment.

 _So dramatic … I swear_

The teacher then proceeded to transfigure her desk into a giant pig, and make it pass through other, more impressive than the other forms, which resulted in impressing all the students. Neville just sat there watching the magic show and felt a pang of remorse when he saw Hermione taking notes while he was just watching the show, like Ron.

Neville thought he must have had the same head as his friend, with his eyes wide open so as to not miss a single second of the impressives transfigurations. He then looked at Bael, who carefully watched each transformation as if he were assimilating information.

"Transfiguration is one of the most dangerous and complex forms of magic you will have to study here" she said. "Anyone who makes a ruckus during my classes will be immediately dismissed with a ban on returning. You've been warned."

McGonagall's statement sounded like a cold shower to everyone. Finally, the real course began with a theoretical part on changing an object to another object which "was easier because the internal structure is the same". The looks Ron gave his wooden table and the window showed how much he did not understand the subject at all.

"Transfiguring a rat to a glass, a vertebrate to an inanimate object is also one of the easiest metamorphoses. The contrary is not such. However, this requires rigor, a rigor you do not have yet. But this is a matter for another class. I will ask of you for the first course to transfigure a match into a needle. "

The rest of the course went smoothly and Professor McGonagall went into the ranks to help the students in the practical part. As she made her way to Neville's rank, she nodded her head as if to say – no, more like convince herself - that his result was almost satisfactory and asked Ron to try again. Then she raised her eyebrows at Bael's match.

"May we know what you're waiting for, Mr. Black?"

The caller looked at her and then took out his wand. He made the gesture and pronounced the formula acutely. His match immediately turned into a pointed silver needle. McGonagall was astounded. Obviously she did not expect the student to succeed on his first try. Hermione Granger had managed to make the transfiguration after three tries. Apparently the young Black had some aptitude for transfiguration. She gave Bael a rare smile.

"Ten points to Gryffindor for this perfect demonstration. In the future Mr. Black you will do the exercises that I give at the same time as everyone else. You will write me a parchment of 30 cm on the transfiguration of a match into a needle at the same time as all your comrades who have not succeeded the spell. "

"But professor, I have"

"There is no, no Mr. Black. You will do your homework as I asked. Do refrain from talking back to a teacher. "

The course ended with this sentence.

* * *

Neville and Ron left the transfiguration classroom with a fully enraged Bael. Even if the small joker had promised to help his two other friends for the essay Professor McGonagall had assigned, he was still fuming. Even Draco Malfoy's taunts touched him.

" _You wait for my mother to hear what you've just said about her Malfoy, and I'm perfectly sure you will not see the light of the day ever again._ " Had whispered Bael when Malfoy had opened his mouth.

"Oh, so you just hide behind your mother, what are you? A mommy's boy!" he laughed. Only, Bael was not amused. Ron tried to pull him out of the small circle of slytherins but managed to just get caught in.

"Says the guy who is afraid of his own garden-peacocks if his mommy is not there with him."

Malfoy turned a bright red.

"How dare you .."

"Scaredy-cat."

"Blood-Traitor."

"In-breeding retard."

"Dishonored flobberworm."

"Incest-born creature."

The insults went back and forth for at least a good five minutes. As unlikeable as Malfoy was, one could not ignore his very lucrative imagination. As the group dispersed because classes would begin in a few – and maybe because a few spells had been fired by the three most knowledgeable students of the crowd – the three Gryffindors hurried back into classes. They had charms with professors Flitwick.

"Next time, try not to pick a fight between classes, would you? We certainly don't need more attention." Grunted Neville when he saw the disapproving looks Hermione sent them. But Ron and Bael ignored him. Something told him it would not be the last time.

"Mate, you do know all these insults you threw to Malfoy … well, you do realize he is your family. Which basically means you've insulted yourself too."

"Na. I keep the illusion I was adopted." Smiled Bael. Neville sweat-dropped.

"You're an idiot."

"Absolutely!"

Ron laughed and high-fived again Bael.

"That's it! I don't have to complex if you're with me all the time. I will finally appear great!"

"Mate, you really need to improve your remarks, because that was like … sooo far from being remotely hurtful."

"Well, I did not have eleven years of training with my family, mind you."

"Thirteen."

"What?"

"Thirteen, going on my fourteenth birthday in october." At the bewildered looks he got, Bael explained. "I was kinda unable to move. Sickness and all."

Neville blinked. Once. Twice. Then he left for the classroom. Maybe he would forget soon what he had heard. That was just so … bizarre.

"And … hahaha, It means you're gonna leave Hogwarts at twenty !" hollered Ron, who for some reason was gone into a maniacal laugh.

Hermione buted in before shushing them.

"But you certainly don't look older …"

"Yeah."

Bael now seemed really uncomfortable. He hurriedly took some books out of his backpack and began to read them. Neville coughed a bit.

"So … better now?"

"Hmm. Should not relapse. That's what's important huh?" tried to reassure Bael.

 _Should?_

"I actually have inverted organs. Basically, the fun thing is that my heart is on my right side!" the boy whispered excitedly to his friend.

 _I think I'm gonna be sick._

Fortunately for Neville, the small professor known as professor Flitwick made an entrance. For this class, the Gryffindors were with the Ravenclaws. The small professor seemed particularly joyous that morning. But even with his very small height and lack of authority – but McGonagall had set the standards quite high with her show and strict words – his class was one of the most passionate Neville ever had. Well Ron and Bael were not of the same mind but these two idiots actually took their wands to cure their noses. The boy sent a small look at the end of each of his friend's wand. He might want to stay clear of the future spells. Anyways the class had gone on with new house points for Gryffindor (Hermione Granger had apparently learnt by heart her book and all the spells in it. Which basically screamed book-worm to everybody else. Nonetheless, they won ten points).

"Today's spell is a small one to destroy inanimate object!" almost cried professor Flitwick on top of his pile of books, "The name is _crac badaboom_ ".

Without surprise, Neville barely managed the spell. He was not a big fan of destruction. Ron and Bael though seemed oddly adept at this spell. Neville even caught snippets of conversation between the two that went along the lines of _It was the only accidental magic I could do that could anger my mother – Yes me too!_. Neville shuddered. He almost pitied the parents. Almost.

* * *

"Hurry up boys! Or we'll be late for herbology this time!" a Gryffindor girl said (Lavande or Parvati?)

"Huh, coming Lavande." Muttured Ron.

"I'm Parvati. " glared the girl.

Ron quivered slightly.

"Ha well. Sorry. Parvati."

The girl hmmph away. Something about boys being rude.

"What have I done?" asked the poor red-head to his friend before entering the greenhouse (or the monster-house, dubbed by dear Seamus when a _catapulta Lenombris_ , a huge flower that sucks on human, almost swallowed him whole). Neville raised his shoulders in clear no-knowing sign.

"Girls… weird things."

"I know what you mean. I mean my mother, aunt and even my grandma steal my bathroom for _hours._ I can't take a good bath! They are always there"

Ron and Neville glared at Bael.

"I'll pretend I've never heard that sentence." Said very seriously Ron to a questioning Bael. "This is not healthy for my mind to know such things. They steal your soap too?" asked sarcastically the young Weasley.

"Yes. Always leave the weird scented-one. I swear I have to wage war just to keep the orange and blueberry one."

Ron face-palmed while Neville answered slowly.

"Dude, you're worse than a girl. Like, way worse."

Bael refused to talk to him for the rest of the class.

 _Ha well, finally at ease._

He chose for the botany course to remain with the quiet sort and so Neville sat next to Hermione and put his school stuffs besides her. She raised an eyebrow and Neville gestured to Ron and Bael behind him who were talking about the next joke they would make (which they surely would not be able to do at their current magic level). Hermione had a disapproving look but smiled at Neville. Botany proved, for Neville, to be most exciting lesson. Especially so for him, he loved plants and understood right away what was needed or should not be done. Ron had become all red and timid when Professor Sprout had asked him to state the name of a magical plant and Bael seemed to be in a kind of coma (Ron had knocked him out with a stone but no one knew where this stone came from).

When Neville left the greenhouse ("No, it's a monsterhouse Nev'" screamed Seamus still traumatized by the plant he had come accross before. He gave a wide berth to the place too), he found himself satisfied. For once, he felt at ease and not overwhelmed by his comrades. He knew, and felt, that Hermione and Bael were not at ease, and that reassured him. In a way he felt a little better compared to them. Was that mean to think like that?

The bell at Hogwarts rang noon. It was time for all students to gather in the Great Hall to eat. Neville debriefed the day with Dean and Seamus and was relieved when he revealed his problems in transfiguration and charms and saw that he was not the only one having troubles. Being put next to a certain Hermione Granger certainly made one doubt.

The day went by quickly. They had a free afternoon, and the next day, history of magic and defense against the dark Arts. Neville was unable to tell what happened in the history of magic class because he had fallen asleep (like many people in the classroom) but he was persuaded that Bael had remained awake. he was the only one to find amusing to throw dungbombs (how many had he in stock?) on sleeping and unsuspecting students.

The defense course was a big disappointment for all students too. Professor Quirrel seemed frightened by his own shadow. He had tried to applaud Bael for a well done spell (flippendo) but for some unknown reason, it seemed to annoy Bael more than anything else. He then "unfortunately" launched the flippendo on the teacher. Three times. Repeatedly.

When Neville had asked him why he had done such a thing, Bael replied he had certainly not been the first to succeed in the class. Hermione was. And she had had no gratification for having succeeded .

"I thought it was unfair", he said.

But Hermione tried to tell him not to be in this kind of state for such a small event. He did not listen and ended up with Professor Quirrel on his back. This is how Bael received his first hours of detention. Obviously he did not fail to get revenge through various kinds of jokes ("He's kind of my guinea pig actually" he had told Ron who was asking him where he was testing all his spells – Hermione was scandalized he would referred to a professor as such and even more appalled when she realized Bael did not considered professor Quirrel as a human being "He is too afraid of himself to even live for life") and Quirrel, although he could not accuse Bael because somehow he had no proof, put him in detention with himself for two more weeks.

Suffice to say that the bad current between Professor Quirrel and Bael had become legendary among the first years. It seemed that the boy was entertaining himself in trying to frighten Quirrel in every class, much to Hermione's dismay and to the general hilarity of the class.

Soon the end of the week arrived. Almost all the materials had been seen. Only the potions remained. Now, the first years were with Professor Snape on Thursday afternoon. With the Slytherins. Neville, who remembered the opening ceremony and the icy glare of the professor, swallowed. He had a terrible fear of Snape already. That frighten him to his very core. Not very Gryffindor-like. And something told him Snape was not going to ignore him in his course. He then looked at Ron, who was trying to encourage Bael to another farce (since when had Ron become so confident?) and walked away to the dungeons. He was caught by his two friends a moment later, all red.

"You think we're going to make a potion today?" Asked Bael

Of all the Gryffindors, he was the only one to be excited for the the potion course. All the others apprehended more or less the course to come. Rumors that Snape was unfair to the gryffondors (especially when there were Slytherins in his classes, which seemed to be an eternal Gryffindor/Slytherin curse – apparently, when in potions, the two houses were always paired together) had spread like wildfire powder. But that did not discourage Bael who said he had already made two potions at home and that he liked the results. No one knew what these "results" were made of and no one wanted to know. Ron was a nervous wreck.

Finally, the door of the dungeons opened before Malfoy made another derogatory remark (he seemed to have calmed down, especially in the presence of Bael, he was not at all evil now. But scathing remarks rolled off of Bael like the light poured out of the sun whenever the gryffindor saw Slytherins). A tall man, with black robes and greasy hair, entered the dungeons. His mere presence silenced everyone.

"What are you waiting for!" The teacher barked as a hello, welcoming dear students.

He quickly called in his raspy voice the list of students and stopped on Neville's name.

"Ah, yes … Longbottom ... Our new celebrity"

The snickers of the Slytherins reached the ears of Neville, who wanted to hide in another place. He continued to make the call and commanded silence with a simple gesture. Clearly, he had as much authority as McGonagall. Just more unpleasant.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and the rigorous art of potion-making. Here, we do not have fun waving magic wands, so I expect that you do not understand much about the beauty of a cauldron that bubbles gently while letting escape scintillating scrolls or the delicacy of a liquid that creeps into the veins of a man to gradually enchant his spirit and imprison his senses ... I could teach you to put glory in bottle, to distill the greatness, and even to lock up death in a vial if you were anything but one of those bands of pickles to which I usually dispense my courses. "

The silence in the classroom was deafening. He glared at Neville as if the small boy was the reason he was stuck in this very classroom, Neville who swallowed heavily, and looked intensely at Bael.

"Longbottom!"

Neville jumped, Snape did not even look at him, his eyes still fixed on Bael.

"What do I get when I add powdered asphodel root to a mugwort infusion?"

Powder of what, infusion of what? Neville glanced at Ron, who seemed as disconcerted as himself. Hermione's hand had risen at the speed of a cannonball and Bael and Snape were still staring at each other. Snape had a scornful grin.

"Obviously celebrity does not do it all. 10 points in less for Gryffindor for not having opened a book all summer and 15 other points for your impertinence »

Neville felt tears coming to his eyes. Snape had not even looked at him to accuse him. He had dismissed him like he was yesterday's garbage. He had not paid attention to Hermione either.

"Let's try again," Snape said with a contemptuous grin, "Black! What is the napel and the wolf-bane? "

A silence followed his question and snickers on the side of the Slytherins once more heard. Neville tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Aconit"

Bael's hoarse voice rang out in the dungeons. Snape turned around quickly, surprised by Bael's reply.

"What is a bezoard?" "

"A stone, antidote to most poisons. "

"Where can I find it?"

There was an evil smile on the faces of Bael and Snape. They thought no one could answer. Bael's gaze swept the class and settled onto a closet behind Professor Snape's desk. Snape's grin disappeared. He had the answer.

"The stomach of a goat or in your closet. Maybe in your supply of ingredients too »

Snape's remark: "20 points for your arrogance Black and a bonus detention with Filch! "

"Yes"

"Yes, sir", Snape narrowed his eyes.

"It is not necessary to call me sir, professor"

"That will be 10 more points," snapped Snape

In the classroom, there was utter silence. Ron, Dean and Seamus looked at Bael with a smile, Neville seemed lost and Hermione disapproved of Bael's reaction

The rest of the course was very unpleasant for Neville and Bael. Gryffindor lost another 35 points for a failed-potion Neville made and Bael for a potion too well made (the official pretext being that he used other instructions than the one on the board, cheating and that his arrogance had no limits). Snape's fury on Neville and Bael was immediate. Everyone tried to reassure Neville who was on the brink of tears (it was not his fault that Gryffondor had lost 90 points in one class ... alone, he had lost 40 points only). Bael was foaming at the mouth. He had lost 50 points but he refused to apologize. He did not want to be undermined. He also did not understand Snape's fury on Neville. Besides all that, he still had a new hour of detention. With those of Professor Quirrel and Snape, Bael must have had established a sort of record. Not even a week in the beginning of the school year and he already had the most points lost (even if offset by the number gained in charms and transfiguration) and the most detention to serve. He had one tonight with Filch and the other two with Quirrel. Bael shot a stone as he left the castle with his friends and headed for the astronomy tower to observe the stars, cursing whoever had the gall to talk to him.

The second week was not much better for Bael. He was grumpy, obviously still had detention (Quirrel gave detentions as much as possible when he realized point loss did not mean anything to poor Bael) and Snape and Bael seemed to hate each other even more (each class of potion assured Gryffindor to lose between 10 to 20 points, and McGonagall and Flitwick were trying to restore the lost points - for putting his tie well during transfiguration, McGonagall awarded 5 points to Bael and Seamus). In the middle of all this, his parents had sent him two more letters, one of them trapped. Yes, Bael's life was complicated at the castle. He nevertheless leveled up the jokes. They became a little more sophisticated every night, but by the end of the second week he stopped abruptly. He had opted to write all his ideas in a book and with Ron, they shared the notebook. It soon became clear that Bael was the great Gryffindor rebel in the early years. Neville had noticed that every night Bael disappeared (at first he thought it was because he was stuck or was still making a joke). When he confronted him with his nocturnal visits, he replied that he liked to visit the castle and the library. This allowed him to study books and assimilate all spells. Ron accompanied him on his escapades, and from time to time Neville accompanied them too. He mostly slept though. Bael was too much of an active intruder ("Don't worry, you catch the hang of it after a while"). A living proof you did not catch the hang of it as Bael had so lightly put it was one Tonks. She was in Hufflepuff and about the clumsiest person Neville had ever had the chance to know. To the point the first time Neville saw the girl, he thought she was cursed. It appears she was not.

"Dude, stop glaring at Tonks. I know she makes lots of noises and all …" said exasperately Neville as he felt more than saw the scathing glare his friend sent towards the Hufflepuff.

"Sorry." Answered Bael not at all apologetic, "it's a habit."

"how can this be a habit?"

"Euh, mate, You do know her mother is a Pure Blood who married a muggle. Made a big scandal. Ever since, if I don't put my most ferocious glare on when she is mentioned, her or her mother, I can feel my inheritance decreasing. Like for real. I think my great uncle disowned me when I did not sp-"

"Stop it. Alright. I got it. Just, why don't you do it with Ron then? I meant no offense mate."

"none taken. I'm curious too?"

"What? Ron's family is not even worth mentioning guys. It's like … yep. No. I don't think they are even aware of you … I'm jealous. For real."

"Your family's fucked up big time." Whispered Neville clumsily.

Bael shrugged.

"You get used to it. I just hope I did not get the insane gene that goes with the family …"

They dropped the conversation when Filch came around the corner.

Then suddenly Bael arrived one evening very excited in the common room. Immediately there was a backward movement, but Bael ignored it (seemed to revel in it now that Hermione sniggered) and called Neville and Ron forth. They then went up to the dormitories and he showed them his discovery: a piece of virgin parchment.

"I found this beauty in Filch's office among the dangerous confiscated objects! "

"What were you doing there?" Neville asked, fearing a detention for his friend – the ungrateful little brat did not know when to be worried or not. He already had more detentions hours done than classes. He was sure McGonagall was already filling up the space reserved for the House-Cup in her office by some random trinket. Never would they have the chance to win it with both the Weasley twins and then Bael and Ron.

"McGonagall saw me try to take Peeves with me for"

"Na, ok, it's good, I don't wanna know what happened."

A smile answered him. Neville really did not know how he was doing it all the time. Even Fred and George did not keep a smile on their faces every single hour of the day. Besides, thinking of them, Neville felt a shiver down his spine. He had seen McGonagall yell at them for a toilet bowl case stalled. The next day they had received a Howler from their mother. Ron had told him they had tried to send a souvenir from Hogwarts to their sister and her friend but the headmaster had surprised them. And McGonagall had then sent a letter to their mother ...

"Well, what the hell did you want to tell us?" urged Ron

"I was coming to it." Bael frowned at the tone Ron had taken. He hated being cut off in his monologues. "This parchment is a treasure! Look, it's a Hogwarts map! "

"What!?"

"Hmm, listen carefully, I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good"

"How did you come up with that catchphrase man?" muttered Neville while his eyes were riveted on the parchment.

And on the parchment, stains of ink appeared. Slowly, they drew contours and shapes and indeed, there was a map of Hogwarts. You could even see each person. Ron and Neville stood speechless. One could read on the top "Messieurs Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail wish you a good discovery"

"Awesome!" Ron breathed

"I know, there are all the secret passages of the castle and I even discovered a room that was not on the map! I also noticed these two new passages which were indicated there. I did not know them before. And then … "

Bael launched into a full scale explication of every nook of the castle to a very enthusiast Ron. Neville stared at the map blankly.

"I know what I'm not doing tomorrow. There is no way I am leaving the dorms tonight. No guys. No need to make such faces. I told you I would not leave more than four nights a week. It was the deal. When do the two of sleep anyways?" grumbled Neville. Unfortunately he was dragged down by his two friends and forced to stay the night in the corridors. "I swear you're the reason I fail so badly at everything." Darkly said Neville on his best impression of a seventh year Slytherin.

"Dude, sneering does not suit you at all."

"Shut up Ron."


	7. Halloween

**Well, I've been gone, but here I am ! Sorry for the delay guys ^^ Here you go**

* * *

 _Chapter 7: Halloween_

The fact that Bael knew almost all the secret passages of the castle in just a month and a half of life at Hogwarts did not seem to surprise Neville. He knew his friend roamed the castle every night with Ron in search of "thrilling adventures." Many times they had taken Neville with them. They had often escaped Filch (Ron argued the castle helped them camouflage) and they knew quite a lot of passages. It was a great advantage though. The three companions studied the map all night and Ron tried to retain the entire map. Neville abandoned very quickly: he had no memory, remembering the passwords of the common room was a chore so try to remember odd words like _bananabumbleeschmuck_ was way too much for him. And how did the previous owners of the map found that particular password… Neville was sure it was not in a dictionary. _I'm also pretty certain it is not English at all._

That said, life of Hogwarts was far from relaxing. Already among the Gryffondors, panic was an every morning routine. The joke war between the twins, Bael and Ron (helped a little bit by Neville) was in full swing - helped sometimes by other student randomly. Every morning, you had to check if you lacked anything and look where you put your feet. Crossing the common room to the portrait seemed to be the course of the Auror too. Very often, the students who did not succeed came out with hair of another color or spit bubbles when they wanted to talk.

But this war came to an end when Professor McGonagall fell into one of the traps of the common room when she wanted to display the next class schedules. It is said she mewed for an entire hour. Obviously the Weasleys and Bael took two full weeks of detention and each received a Howler. However Bael's seemed to be calm. Neville then found out why. The fire-breathing-demon known as Bael's mother had congratulated him for trapping the "arrogant lions" and informed him that he should continue and use more powerful spells to do more damage. McGonagall's red-faced face came to see him at the Gryffindor table and warned him of never ever trying to apply a single advice of the Howler, otherwise he would be expelled. Bael accepted all the reproaches of the professor and was very calm that day. Something to do with pleasing his mother seemed to subdued him. Or shook him.

Finally, the day of Halloween came with great impatience. It was a great day too for Neville. He had had botany and earned a few points. He had not seen Snape the whole day either, which made him much much much happier than usual. With his two friends, he went to the Great Hall for the evening feast when he felt his bag disappear. It was a cornish leprechaun who had amused himself by taking it from him. Irritated, he gave the leprechaun the chase, leaving his friends to join the Great Hall. On his way to track his bag, he met Hermione who tried to help him. Their little hunt ended in the girls' toilets near the dungeons. It was Hermione who got rid of the lepreuchaun and returned his bag and his belongings. She was not the brightest witch of his year with Bael for nothing. And as the two young students went back to the Great Hall merrily, they felt an odor of putrefaction and sewerage.

"What is that smell?"

"No idea ... better not stay here. Come on, come on Neville." Hermione pushed open the door just to close it again and shout "Hide! There's a Troll!"

Neville felt his heart miss a beat. Then a second one. He might actually faint if his heart decided to miss one more beat.

A mountains troll had just broken the door of the bathroom and swung his immense club towards Hermione. She hid in the toilet but the troll swept the whole structure away. Neville seemed to be frozen on the spot, not moving, his mouth hung open. He wanted to take his wand and use a spell but he found himself paralyzed by fear. It was in those moments that he would have liked to be like Ron or Bael. They were not afraid of anything. The smallest the creature, the scarest you would get they said.

The mountain troll then decided to change his target. He was too tired of trying to touch Hermione who could sneak into the interstices. No, he preferred Neville, who was as motionless as a statue. He raised his club and abused it on the site of Neville.

"MOVE YOU IDIOT!"

"Wingardium Leviosa"

These were the voices of Ron and Bael! When he heard the voices of his two friends, Neville's body resumed its march. He immediately noticed two things: first he had not been touched by the troll club, then Bael was in his old place and lay on the ground.

"NO! BAEL!"

Neville and Ron headed for Bael's body but the troll prevented them from passing. Ron was all red and the spell he had cast on the statue barring the entrance seemed to have emptied him of his strength. Neville stretched out his wand and threw a flippendo that did absolutely nothing if not enrage the troll even more. It was Hermione who brought the solution:

"Neville! Send the statue on the head of the troll, it will knock him out!"

"But Hermione, I don't know how to cast this spell!"

But Neville's exclamation fell into deaf ears. He tried all the same. In desperate situations, desperate means. As he attempted the spell for the third time, he quickly saw Bael's lips stir. Neville was immediately relieved, his friend had not died for him.

"What, I can't hear you!"

"The lepreuchaun" Bael said faintly, he seemed about to faint.

"But of course," Hermione exclaimed, "How could I forget?"

Ron and Neville looked at her strangely, seeming to say "it's not obvious? There is a troll right in front of us". Hermione did not give them a look and approached the Cornish Lepreuchaun she had been chasing earlier. She took it in her arms ... to throw him at the head of the troll. Under the astonished eyes of Neville and Ron, the troll staggered and fell to the ground fainting.

"Wow, Hermione, you had more strength than I thought," Ron said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, you fool. You've never opened a book or what?" The bewildered gaze of the two boys replied. "Cornish leprechauns or sprites have a powder on their skin that is severely toxic to trolls. If they breathe this powder in large quantities, it can kill them. There, there was only one sprite, so just enough powder to knock him out for a few hours," explained Hermione.

"And you remembered that all by yourself? The Sorting Hat must have been wrong with you. You are like so Ravenclaw."

At these words, she blushed: "Uh, I ... no, it's Bael who ... Oh my god Bael, quick, we have to take him to the infirmary! "

And before the three Gryffindors could make a single step, the professors of the castle appeared. In front of them stood McGonagall, Snape, Quirrel and Dumbledore. All were shocked by the chaotic landscape that rose before their eyes.

"I ! Black! Granger, Weasley and Longbottom! Never in my entire career ... Explanations now! "

The tone of the professor frightened everyone. It looked like she'd swallowed a lemon. Her lips were so thin they were hardly visible and her nostrils were completely dilated. Her cry was shrill.

"It's not our fault," Ron began bravely, "The troll was there before we could"

"And what were you doing there? "

"I bah uh"

Ron was stuck. In truth, when Bael had shown the Marauders' map to Ron, they had seen that Ron and Hermione were trapped by a troll (named Percy the Troll by the way). They had run to save them and saw Professor Quirrel coming the other direction. Then Ron chose to remain silent.

"5 points, each of you! You realize you could have been killed! McGonagall exclaimed.

"And I take 10 points from Gryffondor for hurting one of your comrades," Snape announced.

He was leaning over the shape of Bael and passing his wand over his body.

"I'm not hurt. I'm very much fine." A pained voice echoed. A snort from professor Snape answered the small voice.

"As much as I would like to let you wander through the halls again, I'm afraid you will have to go through Poppy first. Also, Black, I happily inform you, you have another detention, which will make the twenty third detention given from me. Congratulations Black, you've earned your place as my most depised student ever."

"I'll quit potions the moment I can."

"Don't worry, I look forward to that day."

"I'll make your life a personal hell until then."

"I'll manage Black, ten points."

"I hate you."

"5 points."

"I don't care."

"And another detention for disrespect."

McGonagall gave the two wizards a scornful look and announced: "You will go through the infirmary. 35 points for Gryffindor for being lucky too. Now out! And Black, not a word anymore. We certainly do not need to lose more house points here." the teacher chastised.

The three Gryffindors hurried out before Snape changed his mind.

"It's not fair to take away points. We just beat a troll and all the teachers can do is scream," Ron snarled.

"McGonagall took us 20 points and Rogue 15, so we lost a total of 35 points; But we regained 35. So, we're even in the end." said Neville

"No" intervened Hermione, "Bael had the gall to talk back to professor Snape. So we lost another 10 points and Bael gained two more detentions. I think we managed to do well in the end Only 10 points were lost …" she said in a dream-like stare.

Neville remained silent. He had noticed that Bael had not recovered from the troll all that well. All that was left were a few snarky remarks but they only seemed like a tradition between Snape and Bael.

The three Gryffindors had been treated in the infirmary but Madam Pomfrey had not kept them the night. She was taking care of Bael. He was in a bed and did not move at all.

"Out! You are perfectly healthy! I have another patient who needs my immediate attention right away! "

So they left the infirmary and headed for the dormitory. On the way back, Hermione asked them if they had not noticed things. Faced with their lack of expression she explained: "Professor Snape was wounded on the leg before coming. He was limping. " The fact that even in the worst situations, Hermione noticed these sort of things intrigued Neville greatly.

"You think he ventured into the forest and a beast wanted to devour his leg?" Asked hopeful Ron

"No, Ron, even a magical creature would not eat Snape!" Hermione replied

Her reply left them speechless. Ron and Neville then proceeded to ask if she was okay. Hermione Granger would never speak ill of a professor. Hermione blushed.

"Haha, Bael really influenced you," Ron laughed.

" Yes, good. I think Snape wanted to go up to the third floor in the condemned wing. ", Hermione diverted the attention almost immediately

"Why, what is there?" "

"I do not know but I'll find out"

"You want to die Hermione! Do not do that," Neville pleaded, asking Ron for help, but the only thing he got was "We're waiting for Bael's return first"

" Perfect. Hermione paused and turned to face them. "Oh, and did you see his hair?"

"What of them? He dyed them pink or something?"

"... I'm not sure, but I swear they were curly and completely brown"

"Maybe, I do not know Hermione. He has weird antics like that."

The three Gryffindors then disappeared in their dormitory. The next morning, as the three new friends came down the stairs to the Great Hall, they went through the infirmary to see Bael. But the nurse denied them access. According to her, he needed rest. However, this calmed the doubts of the three friends. Bael was not going to die.

* * *

"It's impossible Albus!" Cried Minerva, "We must protect the stone, then we discover a mountains troll – and an adult one at that - in the enclosure of the castle, a student is missing in the castle and students are wounded. You realize that …! And Black who finds himself in a hospital bed! He's a brilliant student, I do not understand how he was … " but the professor never finished his sentence.

Snape, who until then had merely listened to the conversation, entered the scene: "Perhaps, if you had listened to my words. Black is not who he claims to be. "

"What? You're not thinking clearly! Black is a normal boy! And"

"He's a metamorphmagus," Snape snapped.

"So what? It has no importance. He is not the only metamorphmagus student I know!" Minerva collapsed into a seat and wanted to speak again but she did not seem to know what to say. Albus Dumbledore, who listened to the conversation, said the two words.

"Mr. Black is actually more than what he claimed. He is a metamorphmagus too, but the real question is why try to hide it, " Albus sighed and Snape resumed

"Surely you have seen his original appearance? "

A silence broke through the room.

"It does not change anything for me. Black remains a … »

"Unfortunately Minerva, we will soon be fixed. As he was wounded, I had to call his parents. They should come to the castle in the morning. If it turns out that ... I dare not imagine it to tell you the truth. I pity the poor boy and I understand why he would have done all this. "

An alarm sounded on the teacher's desk.

Baelfyre's parents had arrived.


	8. Ostracised

**Here ! I did not want to wait :D**

* * *

 _Chapter 8: Ostracised_

When Baelfyre's parents appeared in the castle, they headed straight for the Great Hall. They were probably hoping to see the director at the Big Table. And when the doors of the Great Hall opened to let pass the two adults, a silence of death fell on the room. All the students who had breakfast there had stopped and looked at the two newcomers. Not a single person doubted that they were the parents of a student in the Great Hall and all waited until the student in question got up and welcomed his parents. Nobody stood up. Perhaps, one Draco Malfoy was seen getting smaller than ever when the eyes of the parents roamed the Slytherin table.  
It was when Professor Dumbledore arrived with McGonagall and Snape that the noise resumed. The five adults went directly to the infirmary.

At the Gryffindor table, Neville clenched his fork. He refused to believe what he had just seen. Obviously Ron had made the same link with him and refused the truth as much as he did. Hermione, who did not understand why his two friends were making this head asked them:

"But who were they? Bael's parents? "

Ron and Neville nodded. Finally, Ron opened his mouth: "Lestrange, it was the Lestrange"

Hermione's reaction was very slow, she still did not understand.

"But Bael is a Black. His parents must therefore also be Black. "

"Bellatrix Lestrange was born Black. She married Rodolphus Lestrange." The more Ron went on, the more he grew pale. His best friend could be his worst enemy.

"When he sent his letter back to Hogwarts, he had to ask for a Substitution of Name. It is a new law that allows to take his second surname and name. For example, if I had applied for it, I would have become Billius Prewett "

"But I ... He would have told us no?"

"Obviously he did not." And Ron got up and left the Great Hall.

"Do not listen to him, Hermione. If he did, it was because he wanted to protect himself. The Lestrange are known to have been great supporters of the Dark Lord, and Bael, who does not get along at all with his family as his letters showed, wanted to change his name and used his metamorphmagus powers to change his appearance. He must have looked too much like his mother or father. That and he probably did not want to be recognized by Malfoy. That would be like his first cousin and their mothers are sisters. So I imagine they must have grown up together." But despite these words, Neville did not know what to think of Bael's omission. He knew his friend was not bad. But he had lied to them. He felt Hermione's hand beside him.

"It must be horrible to be in his place"

Neville could only agree more with her.

The rumor mill concerning Baelfyre Black actually being the son of the Lestrange, Xerxes Lestrange, went haywire in Hogwarts in half a day. The whole castle knew about it. Rumor had it Bael was an apprentice Death Eater and had deliberately deceived all his friends to spy on them. Ron fell into an awkward silence when he was asked by some other students proof of Bael's evil and Neville seemed lost. Hermione did not know what to do. Nothing seemed to change Ron's mind and most residents of the castle were of the same opinion: Baelfyre was a traitor.

* * *

In the corridors of the castle Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband paced the alley of the infirmary. Behind, Snape and McGonagall clutched. Dumbledore had explained to them the situation and the only thing they had remembered:

"Gryffindor! He was sorted in _Gryffindor!_ "

Bellatrix shrill voice was threatening. Rodolphus had said nothing, but his little eyes expressed all the hatred of the world for the house. Bellatrix went on a rampage about dishonored family members and good-for-nothing purebloods who deserved death. They left as fast as they came, not without stating that Draco was perfect.

In the infirmary, Baelfyre had awakened and clutched his sheets in his hands. He had heard his mother's hateful remarks and even though he liked to think that it did not affect him anymore, nothing was more wrong. Her words had deeply wounded him.

If the other two professors in the infirmary noticed the tear stained cheeks of Baelfyre, they did not say a word. They were careful not to do anything. The behavior of the parents had both made them indignant and they could not do anything. The fact that Xerxes Lestrange asked for the Substitution did not surprise them either after the magnificent show of hatred they had just seen. They soon realized that very few physical appearances had changed: Baelfyre and Xerxes had everything in common except for their hair and eyes. Xerxes' eyes were light gray and his hair black and curly while Baelfyre had the bluest human eyes and dark brown hair.

Besides, he was exactly the same. It appeared however that Baelfyre had a real draconian control over his capabilities of transfiguration. Even in sadness or hatred, he seemed not to change the color of his hair or anything else.

"It was a secret. I was forbidden to talk about it and show it, " Bael said as if he had read the thoughts of the professors. They weren't there to hear his half-apology. He was alone.

Baelfyre did not recover until a week later. When he finally went out into the corridors of the castle, he saw that everyone seemed to hate him and insult him. At first it irritated Bael. Nobody spoke to him, during classes he was alone, and as soon as he entered a room people stopped talking, staring at him and leaving. Yes, Baelfyre was terribly alone. Yet, he tried to comfront his former friends.

"If you're so willing to leave me alone, then you never were my friend to begin with!" groaned a very irritated Bael at Neville and Hermione when they came to make amends.

They had not come back. Given his precarious situation, it probably had been his most stupid reaction. However remorseful he felt, Bael could not do a thing to arrange things. Wherever he went, he was seen as some kind of future dark mage. Worse, the Slytherins waited for him with baited breaths and open arms. That, more than the other spiteful remarks he gathered scared him. He never wanted to go into that particular house. Especially after the hateful words of his mother. He even received a proper letter from his _aunt_. Which might as well translate in the Black family as: your mother was so full of rage she could not even send a proper Howler without blowing the great Hall into pieces.

Anyways, Neville and Hermione did not dare approach him and Ron's attitude wounded him more than anything. Then Bael made the only viable choice left for him. He drowned his feelings under a ton of work and stupid hobbies. Funny thing, he never ran out of stupid hobbies. He develop even a certain passion for sight-seeing. At any time of the day. If nobody wanted to see him, fine. He did know how to make himself scarce. He could always make his jokes, he could still study. That is why during the month that followed Bael was no longer seen in the dormitories, but in the library or in the park alone and often surrounded by books. He had found a new goal and wanted to achieve it. So every day, when he had finished his homework for school, he was looking for his moment out. He was not sleeping really either. His bed was very often trapped by all the Gryffindors who seemed to hate him.

November passed very slowly to the taste of Bael and he found himself thinking about the summer holidays, when he could finally leave the castle. He knew his parents would not accept him for Christmas or Easter, but more than anything else he needed them. Now. Yet the only letters he received from them were insulting letters. _From the whole family._ He did not know this Leta Lestrange and certainly not a Proctimius Malfoy. Since when did those cockroaches meddled with his business. As far as he was concerned, he was not linked through blood with them. Fortunately for him too. That's what he sent back to these people. With a few scathing sentences for show. They never replied.

As Bael sank deeper into solitude, Neville Ron and Hermione walked to Hagrid's hut. The latter had invited them to drink tea.

"Ron, you should do something! He was your friend " Hermione implored, who could not bear to see Bael distancing himself from everyone.

"No, he's a traitor. "

The conversation ended there. They entered the hut of Hagrid. The latter's hut was very small and very hot. A fire burned in a corner of the room.

"Ah, children! Here you are! Did not you take your friend with you? "

" Who? "

"Baelfyre! He has helped me lately. He's a good little fellow. " Hagrid said, serving tea to everyone (he spilled half of it on the furniture at the same time), he resumed," And this quidditch match! Ah what a pity that Gryffindor has no seeker ... They could have won "

"We lost 70 to 230, Hagrid. We were dismembered" Neville said.

For a moment, the half-giant looked uncomfortable. After a bit, the conversation resumed and stopped on Snape.

"He wants to steal the stone!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What, how are you aware of it? And how did you come to that conclusion? And then do not say such absurd things, Snape is a teacher, he would never try to steal the stone. With Fluffy in front of ... »

"This thing has a name!" Ron half screamed annoyed while Hermione glared at him.

"We saw it in the newspaper, Hagrid. This morning, the Daily Prophet said the vault 713 had been stolen from. Now I remember seeing you take what was in this room when I came to Diagon Alley with my parents this summer. We met you at Gringotts. Then we noticed that when the troll was in the castle, Snape was out of breath, as if he had traveled a lot of floors in a short time - and it is quite possible if he went to the third floor then went down to the dungeons - and especially if he was wounded. When we got back to the third floor, we saw that ... " Neville shivered and Hagrid frowned, "Fluffy kept siting on a trapdoor. So we wanted to warn you: Snape is going to steal the stone." Neville finished in a somewhat dramatic tone, hoping that Hagrid would understand, but the latter appeared visibly very angry.

He shushed them out:

"You must not mingle in this business. You hear me, you already know far too much. Get out, before people realize you're out of beds. It is a matter between Flamel and Professor Dumbledore. "

"Flamel?" Asked the three Gryffindors.

The sound of a slamming door answered them. And Hermione dropped another bomb: "He had a dragon egg in his boiler"

"Pardon?" Exclaimed Neville, ready to faint.

* * *

The next few days were focused on how to get an illegal dragon out of Hogwarts. Ron had the brilliant idea of asking his brother Charlie to come and look for the dragon. Fortunately, Charlie's response came a week later and Ron had shown the note to Hermione and Neville. The boy had frowned, he really did not want to interfere, but Hermione hurried to put a plan in place. Finally, everything was ready: Saturday night, at midnight, they would smuggle a dragon out of the castle. And for that they had to bring him on the highest tower, the astronomy tower. When they warned Hagrid of the news, he wept all the tears of his body:

"He's so young!" SROOM! Oh Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed between two sniffles. Ron made a face at the name but refrained from speaking, there was only Hagrid to give names to dragons.

Eventually Saturday evening arrived and the three friends went out of the common room; They crossed Bael, who looked more and more like a zombie. He did not give them a look.

"See, he does not need anyone," Ron shouted

They went on their way. Unfortunately, they fell on Mrs Norris.

"Ah, I can't believe our luck! Usually we never see her! Hurry up guys " Ron said.

Neville and Hermione hurried to Hagrid's hut and took the little dragon in their arms before going up to the astronomy tower. But Hagrid wanted to bid farewell and they were late. While Ron and Neville took over, the castle did not help them: the stairs leading to the astronomy tower became slippery and the steps irregular.

"We'll never finish" complained Neville. He was already beginning to lose hope and his breath.

The story goes as follow: they succeeded in giving the dragon to Charlie but they could not return to the dormitory. Professor McGonagall awaited them visibly irritated at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"I'm outraged by your behavior. It is soon one in the morning and I discover four students out of the dorm and I see Malfoy who keeps repeating stories of dragons. What do you have to say for your defense? "

They could not move forward.

"And where is Mr. Black?" "

"Lestrange is not with us," Ron said angrily

McGonagall's lips disappeared: "Using the Substitution, Mr. Black made the choice to completely abandon his other name. So calling him by this surname becomes a serious insult Mr. Weasley, I hope you realize it."

Ron turned pale and nodded, still angry.

"I take 50 points out of Gryffindor," she barked dryly, "If I ever meet Mr. Black in the corridors and find out you covered for his disappearance ..." she did not finish her sentence but her silence was heavy with threats. As the three friends headed for the dormitory, she continued, "To each of you of course"

"But professor, you can't"

"You certainly are not the designed person to tell me what I can and what I can't do Mr. Weasley. To your beds now!" The sanction was without appeal. The only positive point in this story was that Norbert was well back with Charlie in Romania.

The next day, when they expected to see the red hourglass points in the Great Hall almost emptied, they were surprised to notice that only 150 points had disappeared. Black had not been caught.

The week continued and during the last class of transfiguration, Professor McGonagall handed out sheets of paper.

"These leaves are there for a good reason. From these sheets you will try to make different objects. Yes, you heard me very well. I want at least two different objects and different texture. They should be a sophisticated to at least show a modicum of realistic traits. Should you fail to do so …" To make a good impression, McGonagall made a demonstration and turned his leaf into a statue of a metal cat and a glass on foot. "You can try to do more"

During the test, only Hermione managed to transform her leaf into three different objects. She gained 5 points for Gryffondor. Neville and Ron were very far off.

"If I could make one I would be happy," grumbled Neville

"Hey, look, the renegade did not succeed either," Ron said wickedly.

Indeed Bael rested his head on his hand and looked at his sheet of paper without moving. His wand was in his other hand and pointed to the sheet but nothing happened. It was indeed a first. Usually, Bael was always the first to succeed in transfiguration spells without even trying. And always with a degree of advancement more than others, he always had the most successful metamorphoses. Now there was nothing. When Professor McGonagall walked past his desk expecting to see a bunch of small items, she was surprised to see that nothing had happened.

"Mr. Black, you have some problems perhaps?"

The whole class seemed to catch its breath. No answer came out. Bael had not moved a notch.

"Mr. Black. "

Nothing. Suddenly the professor slapped her hands and Bael sat upright, tensed up and said

"What's happening?!" with his wand raised, as if expecting an attack. Then he realized what was going on. "Oh, Professor McGonagall, forgive me I've fallen asleep." Bael apologized, red with shame.

" With open eyes. "

For the first time since he knew him, Bael looked down.

"My apologies, professor"

"10 points from for Gryffindor. Don't let there be an encore. And detention with me tonight. "

"Yes "

McGonagall narrowed his eyes and then asked, "Now do me that spell"

He looked at the teacher as if she was mad and suddenly a little flame revived in Bael's eyes. He looked around and his eyes lingered on Hermione's work. A flash of understanding crossed his eyes and he walked to his desk.

" _Unifors_! "

Under the bewildered eyes of the whole class, he succeeded his spell on the first try: from his sheet of paper appeared a dozen small objects finely decorated and all of different material. We could have seen five different animals, a very worked bell tower (no one doubted that the inside itself was full of details), a broomstick (strange thing, Bael had never mounted a broomstick, he had missed the initiation during his stay in the infirmary) and a mirror. Mcgonagall looked stunned. She attributed one of her rare smiles to Bael: "Bravo. 15 points for Gryffindor »

Bael smiled too and looked at his objects curiously.

At the end of the class, the teacher took the names of all the students who wanted to stay at Hogwarts. Unsurprisingly Baelfyre registered and ignored – mostly - Malfoy royally.

"Really I pity those who must stay at Hogwarts for the holidays because their parents did not want them …" he hollered at his cousin's attention, "hey wait, Mom is willing to take you in for Christmas!"

"Seriously? We both know she just wants her gift. Ha! And I won't spent my holidays surrounded by that old hag of a grandmother. Go die somewhere else Draco, I won't save you!" Bael the proceeded to run as fast as he could to avoid his cousin wide pleas. They never seemed to reach him.

But Bael was the only one to remain at the castle. No one wanted to stay in the castle while the son of a Death Eater family remained. When Bael learned that he was the only one to stay, no one knew if he was happy or terribly hurt. On the day of departure, at breakfast, he did not show himself.

"He must feel so alone"

"He deserved it"

"Ronald! How can you say such a thing?" Hermione shouted once they were sitting in the Hogwarts Express, "He saved Neville's life, and ours too, you know. If he had not had the idea of the sprite then we would probably all be dead. To save us, he risked his identity and he lost everything. So stop saying he deserved it!"

The rest of the journey passed in silence. When the train stopped at King Cross Station, Hermione went downstairs and headed straight for her parents, ignoring Malfoy and his family positively shining.

Neville and Ron went down at the same time and were able to attend the same spectacle as Hermione, who had already descended. The regret suddenly shook Ron's heart very hard.

"Do you think we made a mistake?" "  
"Yes" Neville's response was not long in coming. He also looked at Bael's mother with unnamed horror on his face.

They then went to their respective families.

When Ron joined his mother with Fred, George and Percy, she embraced them all and started to ask furiously how their studies were going. Only Percy replied. Fred and George had nothing special to say about their school rhythm (anyway, Mrs Weasley already knew it was the void) and Ron had only one desire: go home and not to speak of school.


	9. Christmas at the Potters

**Here we are for another chapter !**

* * *

 _Chapter 9: Christmas at the Potters_

The journey back home took place in Mr. Weasley's old Anglia Ford. As they all returned to the Burrow and Percy was throwing himself into long speeches, Arthur Weasley asked Ron why he was so withdrawn. Ron avoided the question and replied that he was only just tired. The conversation diverted from there and Percy reached the forbidden topic: Baelfyre.

He then described the worst things about him:

"He is like his mother, completely mental and powerful. He was sorted into Gryffindor, I personally think it was a mistake of the Sorting Hat, and he made the most cruel jokes thinking they were funny. He is but a scoundrel." Percy then began to describe horrible pranks that had never happened, always describing Bael as a monster and a future Death Eater, "Besides that, he is very insolent, has detentions every night. He made everyone believe he was a Black when he's a Lestrange! He is mad enough to belong to Azkaban! Actually, I heard he already had a cell with his name on it." concluded Percy as if it were an obvious conclusion.

In the car, a silence had gradually settled down. The usual twitching of the twins had stopped and Ron was not making any noise either. Molly Weasley moved in her seat.

"Baelfyre ... it reminds me of something. Is this not the name of the boy you met on the train, Ron? "

Ron's throat suddenly became very dry. He really did not want to think of his old friend now and everyone forced him to remember him.

" Yes. "

" Oh." There was a silence and as if Mrs Weasley had just understood and processed what Percy had just told her, she exclaimed, "Are you wounded? Ron! He did not hurt you? "

"No" Ron's monosyllabic replica directly cut the air.

His mother's eyes narrowed.

"We'll talk about it again, young man", then she looked at the twins, "You too"

The conversation about Bael was over. His name was no longer spoken in the house for the rest of the holydays.

* * *

It was when Christmas arrived that welcomed news fell. Mrs. Weasley reunited her entire family in the kitchen to say it:

"This year the Potters invited us home to celebrate Christmas. There will be friends of the family including Sirius and the Tonks. Remus will be there too."

The mother challenged her children to utter a word saying they would not go to the Potters. Everyone wisely chose to be silent. The whole family knew the Potters, they were friends after all. Ginny jumped happily all around the Burrow, as she could see her best friend Maureen again.

So it was a very excited Weasley band who disembarked to the Potters via floo powder. Ron threw himself first and shouted:

"The lion's den, Goddric's Hollow!"

He was invaded by the green flames and felt an intense whirlwind stir his whole body. Uneasiness slowly appeared in the pit of Ron's stomach, hoping he had shouted the correct address. When he felt his feet touching the ground again, the red headed boy let his breath come back to normal. Then, he was welcomed by all the Potters. Apparently the only guests who had yet to come were the Weasleys. They appeared one by one and soon the majestic salon of the Potters (unsurprisingly red and gold) was filled with people. What was his surprise when he discovered Neville and his parents were there too.

"Neville! I did not know you were coming! "

"Neither did I. I learned it two hours ago." He turned his head from right to left as if to verify that no one was listening to him. "James is a friend of my father's and he went home like that and said he invited us. It came out of nowhere." Then he hesitated and added "I think dad accepted to escape Grandma's clutches. It reminded me of Bael too."

Immediately Ron's cheerful mood went down. He did his best not to show it.

* * *

They were soon going to eat, so Ron took the opportunity to slip away and climb the stairs of the Potter's dwelling. He then saw Fred, George Ginny and Maureen. The latter said:

"I swear Fred! This room is always closed, whatever I do. Dad and Mom refuse to open it. I do not even know why ... I'm convinced that before the big attack of six years ago, nothing was closed at home, but since ... Can't you open it? I'm sure we'll discover a lot of mysterious stuff" Maureen begged.

She coaxed the twins (and did it very well with Ginny) but as they opened the door, Lily Potter went upstairs.

" What are you doing here? Go and wash your hands then go down. Dinner will soon be served" Lily Potter's soft voice discouraged them from continuing; She waited until all the children left to take a look at the door on which the children were working. Ron caught her sad look when she looked at the door. He could not help wondering what might make her so sad. He finally walked to the bathroom to wash his hands.

The mysterious door was Harry Potter's former room. Despite all the efforts of James and Lily, they could not erase the room. They had not had the courage. Since the big attack, their house had burned down and all the family photos had disappeared. This room, this location, although empty, was only the only witness that Harry had existed. To their utter dismay, Maureen had forgotten her brother with time. She vaguely spoke of a boy her age to her parents but she thought he was a neighboring Muggle of the time. She had finally forgotten him. Neither James nor Lily would remind her of her dead brother. Yes the vestiges of their elder was an empty room and a name on a stone to the dead in the cemetery of the village. He did not even have a gravestone for him.

Lily sighed and checked herself. She had drawn a line on this passage of her life. She could not live in the past and regret things forever. Mourning time was over. Although unhappy forever, Lily had to keep smiling, for the memory of her son. Just like James.

Lily then went to the bathroom to wash her hands. She saw Ron Weasley wiping his hands. She smiled and noticed something had fallen out of his pocket. A small figure came out. Lily was very surprised: it was an exact replica of the Goddric's Hollow bell tower before the Death Eater attack. There were all the details.

"Oh, I did not know it was there. I must have taken it without paying attention" Ron was all red and facing Lily's questioning look, he continued " A friend transfigured that before Christmas "

"He did a very good job then," Lily said softly, then added, "This bell tower represents our village before the attack of You-Know-Who ... the one who transfigured it had to see the image in a book and unconsciously reproduced it. It's really extraordinary for a first year "

Ron blushed furiously, "Yes, he's really strong in transfiguration."

Lily smiled some more and invited him down to eat. Ron could not refuse, his belly shouted already famine. He was starving.

* * *

Dinner was spent in delightful humor. Nymphadora Tonks played with the Potter twins (who seemed to voluntarily change their appearances and had engaged in a competition of sorts), Sirius, James and Remus were talking about their Hogwarts years while Lily and Andromeda were looking suspiciously at Mr Weasley and Ted Tonks, the both of them talking about muggle contraptions. In the middle of it all, Fred and George prepared a nasty joke (very potential target: Percy) and Ginny and Maureen waited for them to finish it. Then in the corner, the rest of the adults were talking randomly and Ron and Neville stayed under the Christmas tree, bewildered by the mountain of presents. The two friends had seen Hermione's owl flew by and let a present fall on the huge pile.

Very soon though, dinner was ready and the dessert was on the table. And a wonderful _bûche_ was perched on a silver platter. The Christmas cake was simply breathtaking. One could even see a muggle skiing on the delicious cake. Eyes were lit with envy all around the table.

"You've outdone yourself Lily!" shouted Sirius, eyes gleaming. Lily smiled evely.

"James did it, this year."

The joyous atmosphere froze and Sirius's smile went done in mere seconds.

"Ah … you've been getting better James … is it poisoned?" asked innocently the poor man. James laughed loudly and gave a slice of the dessert to his long-time friend.

"Well, you only have to eat it to know, my dear Padfoot."

"You traitor. If I die, know that you won't inherit a single knut from me. Everything will go to Andy. Hypocrite." Huffed Sirius while eating his cake slowly (poking it with his wand had been forbidden by Lily and Molly).

"Ahah! Nothing happened! You've lost your touch Prongsie!"

"Have I?" questioned the man while picking a chocolate treat. "I wonder …"

And under everyone's eyes, Sirius's skin colour turned a vivacious blue and scales began to grow out. At some odd time, fish's sounds could be heard coming from Sirius's mouth.

"James!", a scandalized Lily stood up.

"Hey! Calm down! It was just a spell! There's nothing in the cake, I swear!"

But the glare Lily sent his way told him the night would be rough. His dear wife ended his joke in a wand turn and cut the cake for the guests. That's when Neville connected the dots.

"Wait … you're Padfoot and Prongs! Bael's map creators! So Moony and Wormtail are …" breathlessly said the boy in almost a whisper. But silence had descended upon the table. James and Sirius had just high-fived together.

"Cheers mate! Our map is so great it has transcended generations!"

"I knew it! Boy I was soo right, you owe me guys! As I told you, a prankster will always uphold the tradition! Neville, my deary, you must tell me absolutely everything! How? Who? When? Moony come over there !"

Neville and Ron went a beautiful shade of red.

"I did not think the two of you would ever go the old ways. I would have thought Fred or George would discover the map … but you … and I suppose Hermione is a part of that lovely new group of yours?"

"Remus! Don't say such things! They can't even hurt a fly!" said Molly in complete denial, looking suspiciously towards her two plotters. But the twins were looking exquisitely delighted not to be on the receiving end of Mrs Weasley charming anger. And the telling silence of the two boys were slowly accusing them.

"Ronnald … How could you do such a thing?"

"It's not my fault mum! I swear it was Bael who did all the work!"

Neville coughed in his hand remembering the long detention hours _without_ Bael because Ron had decided to wage a mini war against Slytherins students.

"And Quirrel just hates us! And Snape is greasy and mean!" apologized Ron while Sirius was trying not to laugh behind his hand.

"Professors! Ron! How many detentions did you get?!"

Ron did not answer, either trying to count or just completely afraid to answer. Chances were it was a bit of both. Fortunately, Neville saw his parents wave the all-right sign. He never loved them more than now.

"Uh … I don't know …"

"Answer me! 2? 3?" The voice of Ron's mum suddenly got lower. "5 maybe?"

Gathering all his Gryffindor courage, Ron croaked

"I stopped counting after the third week."

Mrs Weasley shouted blue murder.

" _Week?! Ronald Bilius Weasley, come back here immediately!_ " screamed Mrs Weasley, putting in front of her, her hands (claws according to Fred, but no one tried to listen to him). Ron was trying to hide behind Sirius. The poor wizard took the brunt of the attack.

"This is abuse of magic! I call for an emergency here!" grumbled the down-man.

At the same moment, an hideous owl entered the house. The laughter ringing in the room stopped just to watch the present (very heavy apparently – it had crushed three presents when the owl let it down from its clutches) go down. But to everyone's surprise, instead of going back to wherever it had come from, the one-eyed owl dived straight toward Sirius – in an impressive Bronsky's Feint swore James – with a short war-cry owl-version. To Neville's surprise, he recognized that owl. And he was not the only one. Ron intervened:

"On the floor! It's Hades! Bellatrix's demon!"

The next seconds were sacrificed to small panic while Sirius took his wand out.

"That horrid bird. Come back, I'm gonna fry you! Stupefy!"

The red spell missed the owl by millimeters. Cackling madly because it had dodged the spell, the owl never saw the wall coming. It fell into the extended arms of Andromeda, who had not moved an inch since the beginning of the scene.

"What is this flobberworm of an owl doing here?" raged Sirius, nursing some of his wounds back to health. James was laughing loudly with Remus on the side while the other adults, just did not seem to care one bit.

"This, my dear Padfoot, was revenge. If it I indeed bellatrix's owl, I do remember you transfigurated his feathers once."

"but .. that's impossible! I was in fourth year! It's been years since!" exclaimed the wizard, "I'm sure that witch demanded it."

Neville hid a smile. He distincly remembered Bael saying something along those lines the very first day of school. The owl had since harassed him in the corridors. It was not rare to see Hadès lurking in a dark corner of the Castle waiting for Bael to come out. It seems Hadès had a better orientation senses than most students too if the Head boy's mutterings were to be believed.

"Well, boys." James was talking, "Open up this little parcel" a smirk was clearly on his face. "I wonder who would send it … any connections to Slytherins and Lestrange there? I thought you were forever banned or something Andromeda."

The witch did not seem to care one bit.

"You perfectly know that I was. And I think that was my nephew's welcome gift."

Sirius suddenly sat up straight.

"Nephew? How … could you …"

Andromeda heaves a smile while looking at the other adults laughing merrily. "Sirius, he's not that bad."

"No but I mean … How did your sister reacted? I doubt it went well." Andromeda's cheeks were tinged red. "No way … they actually don't know. Haha!" barked the Auror, "You did not tell me!"

"Well, we stopped exchanging letters a couple years ago. He was hospitalized … and letters are read by Healers for long term patients." The frown on the witch's face said all the worry she carried within her heart. Neville heard the whispers-like conversation between the two wizards though.

"Are you talking about Bael?" he asked innocently. Andromeda merely raised an eyebrow. "I meant, hum, Xerxès."

"yes, that's him. Why Bael?"

"He chose to use his second name. Baelfyre, Bael for short."

Andromeda actually let a small laugh escape her lips.

"And to think he used to hate that name. He thought it too girly."

"Hermione did say his name meant something in french …"

Sirius snorted this time while Andromeda bit her lips.

"Ha, I bet that went well. It might have the same intonations than the french words for beauty but it's not that. The name comes from a star. Black tradition and all that. I must admit though, I'm quite poor at Astronomy, so I would not know the signification. Do you Andy?"

Drinking again from her glass of firewhiskey the witch creased again her eyebrows.

"You're hopeless, Sirius. Baelfyre means the shadow warrior because it's in the shadow of the star Bellatrix, the she-warrior. Some say it's how Bellatrix came to be, a warrior to protect her child."

"That was thoughtful of her. I did not take Bella for such an emotional person."

"Hmm. That's why it surprises me Xerxès lets you call him Baelfyre. He hates it so much …"

"Stooop! It's way too moody over there" cried James sporting a huge grin, "It's Christmas time so guys … open the letter that went with the Merlin-forsaken owl."

"It's a damn beast Prongs, and you know it."

James patted Sirius on the head.

"Don't take it personnaly, but I think we both know you will always get bested by this owl."

Neville ignored from then on the antics of the two adult. As amusing as it was, he could perfectly understand how the others thought it annoying. On Andromeda's gesture, Nevile pulled Ron on the side an they opened the letter attached to the parcel.

"It is from Bael! I did not think he had it in him to secure Hadès's services."

"Whatever." Whispered Ron

The letter in itself was not overly long. It was encased in a very neat covering, and the writing was excessively nice. It did not look at all like Bael's awful scrawl.

 _But now that I think about it … his essays were always written with this handwriting. He saves that for the big events huh …_

Sirius, leaning over the two boys, stiffled.

"Boy does that friend of yours know some etiquette lessons. My father used to do the same. Haa, good times. And to say my mother once tried to make me learnt how to do it too … It did not stick with my brain enough I supposed."

"You never tried to correctly learn manners." Muttered Andromeda in a corner with her husband. "Like Nymphadora."

The cries of the daughter pleading not to be called that way again (Ron savagely secured this information away, his grin totally giving him away) hurt Neville's ears. He focused on the letter in his hands though. Ron read it over his shoulder:

 _Dear Ron, dear Nev'_

 _First of all, merry Christmas! I wish you a wonderful night and (soon) happy new year! I learnt from Hermione the two of you would spent the end of the holydays together so I took the opportunity to send you some gift._

 _You also might have noticed Hadès swooping in. I hope he did not damaged too much the house he was in. Beware of hi return attack, his vicious beak is becoming more powerful too. He almost got me in the corridors earlier. He likes to do that a lot_ – Neville saw effectively the owl barging from another window and diving straight toward Sirius. Lily stunned him just before he could. Sweat dropping at the bird's antics, Neville resumed the letter.

 _Well, I wanted to apologize to you guys. For not telling you right away who I was, who my parents were or well, who my family was. I should not have hidden it. But I certainly did not want to hurt you or something. You are the first friend I made without their influence. I know I made mistakes, but these holydays made me think a lot: friends matter. And you are my friends. Besides, I am no Death Eater in training. First of all, I hate the Dark Lord with passion. Second of all, I've never entertained sane relationships with my family members. You can ask Aunt Andromeda._

 _Anyways, merry Christmas, I hope we'll talk again come the new year._

 _Baelfyre Xerxès Black_

 _PS: There's a gift for the twins and Ginny and her friend. I thought a souvenir from Hogwarts would bring some humor._

 _PSS: And guys, please do tell Fred and George I succeeded where they failed. And no one noticed it yet!_

"Whoah. He fought with Hadès."

Neville sweat-dropped at Ron's words. "Dude, of all the letter, you remember Hades … Just, how insensitive can you be?" mumbled the young boy to his friend.

Ron managed to look a bit crestfallen but regained his smile just as fast. Or at least tried to. His smile seemed a bit too unnatural for it to be real.

"What do you think he was talking about when he said he succeeded where Fred and George failed?"

"No idea mate. Wanna take a peek?"

"Hell yeah!"

But just as Ron was taking the plunge into the pile of presents, Lily stopped them dead in their tracks.

"Oh, I don't think so, young ones. Presents will be opened tomorrow. No exception."

And Bael's present floated slowly toward the pile, missing by a few inches Ron's hands. Unspoken tears were cascading down his cheeks but in a typical Ron-like character, the red-head went sulking on his chess board. Neville joined his friend, if only to stop thinking about the presents – because he certainly did not entertain being slaughtered and insulted by the chess pieces. On the far corner of the room, James and Sirius were already applauding Baelfyre's pranks.

"Now, hear this one out Prongs! He must be the little dude who sent the dungbomb right at Bella's face! And a Gryffindor … Ho ho ho! For sure, he's already disowned. I swear if that old harpy does not want him anymore, I will adopt him!" barked Sirius.

"She's not that old Sirius." Muttered Andromeda, "She's barely 34."

"Whatever." Sniffed the man, "She's still a couple of years too old."

Laughing heartily, Andromeda raised an eyebrow, "And I wonder what you would think of my mother, then."

"Wait! … She's still alive?"

Andromeda's smile answered Sirius.

"Dear Merlin. Dis she terrorize somebody again? Last I heard, she was in trouble with the Ministry for an obscure case of perch and harassment."

Andromeda only shrugged lightly while petting a cat.

"I would not know."

"Liar. We both know you're still in touch with … somebody … in that wretched part of the family. You knew of your nephew's birthdays."

"Really, Sirius? You would know too. The Black family rings tell us these kind of things."

Sirius stopped for a moment and then started fondling a golden ring on his left hand.

"You kept it too?"

"I almost threw it away. But … I was convinced to do otherwise."

"oh, really? Who?" This time James intruded

"Xerxès." And in front of the two bland males faces, she added, "Bella's son."

A mere second went by before Sirius realized it: "You know your nephew! He's the mole who's been feeding you the news this whole time!"

Yet again, Andromeda laughed, not denying Sirius.

"He comes by every summer. Or when he just feels like it."

"But … Do _they_ know about it?" wndered James, not having followed the earlier conversation.

"Of course not James." Huffed Andromeda. She spoke after a moment, "But I think my sisters suspect it."

"Wait, wait, wait!" ushered Sirius. The man transfigured a passing Christmas light into a chair to sit upon. "When did you two meet? In Diagon Alley?"

From the embarrassed face of Andromeda, it was easy to guess it was not.

"Hahahah!" Ted Tonks voice came over the small group. "if only. No. The lil bud had the gall to show his face to his parents trial. He used his metamorphmagus abilities to pass up as a Ministry officials."

"What? At five?"

Ted answered James. "Well, the little fellow was more like 7 going on his 8th birthday. It was very sad actually. Both the Lestranges and the Malfoys were in the Ministry holding cells and … we guessed, with Andy, that he must have fled Druella, his caretaker and grand-mother. We caught him before he jumped into the middle of the trial to … defend … his mother." From the reluctance in Ted's voice, you could almost hear regret. "it caught the Lestrange's attention and that stopped them from admitting their vows to Voldemort." ha added the last part silently.

"Well … would you look at that." Muttered Sirius. "So you're saying that without him, they would have spent their life in prison?"

Andromeda butted in. "Oh, I doubt it. They certainly have enough money to land them out of Azkaban. But that scene helped Xerxès. He was a very lonely child. Full of anger too. I think he realized his mother was a selfish person. And he did not want to become like her."

Ted humphed, "You can say that again … When he saw us, that little monster recognized us very easily. Called Andy a blood traitor and I a mudblood … so young too."

"No way …"

This time, it was both Ron and Neville's voices coming to their ears.

"Bael would not .. like … he protects Hermione from Draco all the time! I can not ever see him as a Pureblood disturbed wizard."

"Ha. How wrong you are my boy." Said kindly Ted, "But he was just a child and he just kept on saying the same things he heard."

"What happened next?" asked eagerly Neville picturing a small Bael in his mind.

"We took him in." Andromeda said. "I did not want him to come back alone in wherever he was supposed to be. That and I think my mother would have strangled him for disappearing for a few hours. It was best to wait for the Lestranges to be out."

"And he accepted?" wondered Ron.

Ted smiled roguishly.

"He fell asleep right on the spot. All his metamorphmagus abilities tired him. And then after that, he made a scene when he woke up and then … he found Dora and they stayed together testing their magic. It was funny. He actually forgot everything else. But he left two days after his birthday to come back to his family. Ever since, he would send letters from time to time. Even took some time to visit on odd days."

Sirius and James muttered a few words but Ron was the first to react.

"And he never called you a … mudblood?"

"Nope!" said Ted with a huge smile, "Well, he tried but Andy scolded him so strongly I think he was scared enough not to say it ever again. Not to our faces at least. That and he was completely awed by the muggle devices. And since Andy and Dora could not answer all of his questions, he went to me on his own."

"I think he admired you more than me." Softly said Andromeda with a smile.

"What's not to love about me?"

The pointed look towards his belly stopped the man from boasting anymore.

"Whatever. The cake is really good here."

"Of course." Said Andromeda, reaching for her wand threateningly.

"On that happy note, I'm outta here! See you later!"

Ted actually fled the group in half a second. But Neville and Ron were so entranced in the tale, they begged Andromeda for more.

"Now, I don't think I should."

"Please! Tell us at least what he truly looks like! He always change …"

"I can't really answer you. I'm not even sure myself."

"What … but … why would he want to change so much?"

"Now that is not very complicated to answer." Said Sirius, still on his chair. "He must look so much like Bella that people keep on comparing him to her. And we can say whatever we want to, but she was a bright witch. For him not to be too, well… it would be a shame. It is just expected from him to know things. To be strong. To be a good duelist. Even more so if the first thing people see when they look at him is Bella. I think he went to these lengths to hide his appearance just to live by himself and not through his mother. Also, that might explain why he got sorted into Gryffindor and not Slytherin."

"Yes." Said andromeda, "he's very much like you were at this age."

"ha, a mini me at Hogwarts. Now, that must be something. I swear he's gonna give everybody grey hairs." Grunted Sirius.

"I say he stay with the Lestranges for two more years." Bet James once the children were out of hearing range.

"Four years I say." Said Sirius.

"I certainly won't bet on that." Said Andromeda frowning. A few momets spent in silence were broken yet again by Sirius.

"Hey, that Xerxès there … does he remind you of Ariès?"

Andromeda's eyes shone brightly in the Christmas lights. A small and soft voice answered the man after a seemingly impossible time.

"Of course he does. Let us just hope he won't end up like him."

* * *

The very next morning went by too slowly for the children's tastes and way too fast for the adults. At morn, a bustling sound of excitement could be heard. Suddenly, a pillow was thrown.

"Ron! Why?" whined Neville looking at the clock, "It's too early!"

"Merry Chritsmas! Hurry up for the gifts! We let you out of the fun too."

Neville cleared his head.

"What are you talking about?"

A very red Ron answered him

"The mystery room. It was just an old room actually. Nothing funny at all. Well … Fred and George did try to stuck Ginny to a wall I suppose …"

Neville sweat dropped at his friend answer. And then he wondered how, by Merlin's soggy underpants, did they not wake up the whole house. None of them knew silencing charms anyways.

But in a few minutes the small gang of children was already down in the living room next to the gifts and tree.

"Hey! Sirius! What are you doing on the presents!?"

Ron's shouting attracted everybody's attention. Squinting his eyes, Neville effectively could see Sirius half asleep on the pile of presents. A groan was heard.

"Pup, don't shout."

"But … the presents …"

"… aren't gone …" muttered Sirius while crouching from his initial position. A few pop were heard, signaling the creacking of Sirius's bones before the man asked curiously

"How did you see me so fast anyways?"

Ron shrugged embarassed.

"… You're an old man .."

Sirius just barked.

"If only every one could be like you .. "

Fred and George accosted Sirius before he could go on a rant.

"Wait!"

"What were you doing?"

Sirius smiled, "Well, you see there, I was mounting the guard in case small snot-nosed kids could fester in."

A brawl almost happened, had it not been for Lily Potter and her wand.

"Just … open your gifts children. And Sirius, do shut up and kindly prepare breakfast."

Everybody complied with much shouting. A glare silenced most of the troublemakers.

All in all the Christmas opening presents was a very fun day for each party involved. While Ron was reading through a small book of pranks sent by an anonymous friend, Neville tried his chance at a Quidditch match against the adults (they sorely lost, a searing 20 to 450) and the twins were in awed before Remus and his explanation of some secret passage ways.


	10. Dumbledore's gone

**Alright guys! Here we go, it's almost the end of the first year ^^**

 **So read and review :D**

* * *

 _Chapter 10: Dumbledore's gone_

Baelfyre was a very bright student. Nobody could say otherwise, even professor Snape and his most ferocious glare. Black was, though, a very troublesome student. With terrible manners.

Anchored deep in pureblood traditions had said Snape one evening while facing the Headmaster. The latter had not uttered a word, deep in contemplation. McGonagall had decided to snort and to point out the numerous _non-pureblooded_ acts of one Baelfyre Black. And then the portrait of Nigellus black had outright laughed at them.

"Nobody can understand an insane but an insane."

These very words had seemingly not shocked a single soul in the room. They knew the old headmaster was the most detestable character to have ever had free reigns of the school. There was simply no point in debating with him on a pointless subject. Especially if one were talking about this very endearing family that was the Blacks. Snape had gone simply stating the need to correct a few students to remind them about curfew – but the knowing smile of the Headmaster said he knew what Severus Snape was about to do - while McGonagall had gone to see Flitwick, thus leaving the headmaster alone with his thoughts.

"Ah, Minerva. I was looking for you!" cheered the small professor upon seeing her in the corner of a corridor. The Castle could be very accommodating when he wanted to, thought distractedly the transfiguration professor. The two professors went side by side, talking about one of the Ministry's new law about the regulation of magical property. Slowly desecrating the Minister for his stupid law, the professors met some Slytherin first years.

"You _must_ do it Draco!" simply said a shrill voice, also known as Pansy Parkinson. "He is your cousin."

"Well, _you_ adore him. I personally hate his guts." Muttered the small blonde through clench teeth. "I already hear too much of him at home! I thought mom was gonna strangle him when he took the floo powder to leave the manor on his birthday."

"No way! He did not …" wondered Theodore Nott behind Draco Malfoy.

"oh yes he did. Aunty Bellatrix destroyed the Chimney and Mom blew up the windows. Accidentally. That's like so unusual."

"Where did he go?" Parkinson demanded.

Draco shrugged his shoulders.

"That's the thing. I did not hear. But I bet Mom heard. Dad took me out though, said something about Black genes." The disdain and the pout could be heard miles away.

"Did Xerxès come back?"

"Yes. At 4 am. It was not pretty. Came back through the entrance of the manor, with this huge stupid grin and said he had side along apparition with Auntie Andy …Mom and Auntie Bellatrix were waiting for him with their wands."

"Andy? But I thought your whole family was at your manor for the holidays and the ball?"

"That's the thing, he came back with this … _blood traitor_ "

The shiver that went down the spine of the little students did not go unnoticed by the two professors. Repressing both their thoughts at _who and why_ they were talking about, they ushered the Slytherins to scatter. The conversation between the two professors came back when they were assured of being out of earshot.

"Can you believe this Minerva? Do you really think Black had the gall to leave and come back with … his disowned relative?"

The very undignified snort that left one of the portrait in the corridors answered the charms professor. McGonagall merely pursed her lips, thinking about the scene.

"Well, he definitely came back earlier than planned."

The small professor chuckled.

"Why, yes. I believe he was certainly in a better mood than when he left the castle."

A small silence reigned where the two wizards took the time to exactly remember the departure of one Black. In truth, the small student had been very quiet at the end of the term, and certainly not willing to leave the castle. And according to the rare non-explosive letters exchanged between father and son, the feeling had been reciprocated. The grin that had adorned Baelfyre's face had faded away. A scowl had taken its place.

It had been very entertaining when Draco Malfoy had tried to stun his cousin, only for the spell to backfire on him. All the while, Black had been sleeping. He had woken up at a very red Malfoy shouting blue murder at him. Then, promptly left with a pat on dear Draco Malfoy's head.

That particular action had forced the whole first year Slytherin dorm to act as a whole. They had stunned Baelfyre Black while he was brooding somewhere in the library. The following words exchange had been very crude but it was said the trip to London had been peaceful. McGonagall certainly could imagine the glare the small Black could have conjured, waiting for his parents to come while his cousin celebrated a well-done capture.

Honest to Merlin, the professor had been worried. She had tried to intervene but Severus Snape had shaken his head.

"Recently, it is true that the relationships between Black and his family have become … dire, but they have never been not tense."

Minerva had arched an eyebrow at Severus, not shocked about his knowledge. The snarky professor had shrugged and touched his left arm.

McGonagall almost sneered. That left arm. The Dark Mark. _But of course_ he knew the Lestranges, they were best pal. Or more exactly, Minerva knew Severus was close to the Malfoys, who in turn were close to the Lestranges.

"Black, what are you doing?" the passably angry professor had just spotted the student whose family she was just thinking about. And said student seemed in particularly high spirits.

"Just avoiding Draco, professor." He paused with a smile, "Perhaps, I went a bit too far but I am so not apologizing." He shrugged.

"Whatever. Don't run in the corridor. Don't dirty it either … Merlin knows Filch has been absolutely cranky these last years. No need to add fuel to the fire." She said in a huff, passing the student in large steps. He had grinned.

"yes professor. Merry Christmas by the way."

McGonagall had almost waited for a prank. It never came. Well, no need to wait for one to come. Pursing again her lips, an odd tick she seemed to have whenever a Weasley or a Black was involved, she left.

On his part, Bael tried to stop his bouncing heart from leaving his chest. The old witch had surprised him. Which, in itself, was something. He had spent these last few days avoiding angry witches. And his cousin.

Oh, he had brooded alright. In the Gryffindor tower, the last month had been a bit harsh. Especially with Ron. And then, he had discovered the wonders of the library and the knowledge of the next curriculum. _And then_ he had been bored. Angry bored. Annoyed bored. Sad bored. Something was missing and it had taken him a whole month to realize his dearly missed his friends. Actually, it had taken him a mirror. Hidden in plain sight according to him, but the Headmaster had said it was hidden in a small disused classroom. A classroom that was locked and that Bael should not have had access to.

And his terrible manners had acted again. He knew he should have at least talked to the Headmaster nicely. Ah. Well, years of contempt from his family had actually gone to his head – or that is why Bael was trying to convince himself with. He had ignored the director.

A night before the Hogwarts Express was supposed to leave, Bael had snicked yet again out of his dorm, out of the prying eyes of his dorm mates. Knowing the castle by heart, he quickly had gone to the small room with the mirror. Ha had lost himself in the reflection and cried silent tears. But that, he would never tell anyone. Only, the Headmaster had seen him. Unknowingly, Bael had realized too late the Headmaster knew of his nightly expeditions.

A loud thump of his heart later and a reminder to be stealthier next time, Bael had rudely interrupted the Headmaster in his small speech and left. But he had been there too the next night.

"What!?" had harshly demanded Bael angry with the world. A delicacy Hadès and Yvan – the Malfoy's owl – had thought necessary.

The Headmaster had chuckled. Bael had groaned.

"I believe my boy, we both know what this mirror is. Yet you keep on coming back, why?"

"You know why."

Bael's voice had been hoarse. Green with envy too.

"May I ask what do you see."

"A book."

The answer had been direct and hardly believable.

"What do you see you?" demanded the student without an ounce of respect.

Bael had thought the Headmaster would not answer.

"A pair of socks. You would not believe the number of people who think I need books at this time of the year."

Bael had sneered.

And that is exactly what had spurred a quick change in attitude. A sneer was exactly what his _grandmother_ would have accepted. That old witch. He hated her too much and made as much effort to be as far from her as possible.

With a small cough, Bael had tried to apologized. It had come more like a cry, mixed with a weird strangle noise, but in Bael's opinion, it had done the deed.

"I really do see a book, you know. It's not written in yet. I … The name is _A Thousand Years Of Forgotten History_."

"May I inquire how does it begin?"

Bael humphed. A quick lie here to show he was not completely dim witted and his sentence went along the lines.

"Oh well, you know. It is a history book so it would begin with: In these pages, A thousand years of long memories and terrors are imbued. Erased and half-truths are the remnants of a once grand civilization, the rest since long in a state of decay."

Albus Dumbledore had indulged him a knowing smile.

"It is certainly a bit dark, don't you think?"

"Well, that is the middle ages." Bael had said.

"True enough. Do continue, I find myself curious."

Bael followed his lead.

"Well, it is about a lot of things. But I can't really read it to you. My hand is hiding the rest."

"Oh, your hand? Are you writing it? Do you want to become an historian?"

Bael felt insulted. An historian, ah, the good joke. He would be disowned just thinking about such an unpureblood job.

"It's a working project." He begrudgingly said.

A small silence had reigned.

"I do see my sister Arianna. She died a long time ago in a terrible family drama."

Bael turned slightly his head, that was the only emotion filtered. He had not thought the Headmaster would really answer him. The piercing eyes of the Headmaster stayed solely on the mirror in front of him.

"Many men before you have lost their lives in this very mirror. I'm an old man with many regrets. You have your whole life in front of you. Do not falter in front of such artifacts."

Bael's heart clenched at these words. And he knew the Headmaster realized it too. Well too late now.

"I know."

"Good. I will hide the mirror again."

Bael had nodded without conviction.

"It changed, you know. What I see in the mirror."

Without knowing why, Bael told the Headmaster his greatest fear.

"It used to be just my close family. I … wanted to make them proud again. It's my friends now."

At these words, Bael showed his left arm.

"Sometimes I wonder … if they ever were. Proud I mean. My parents. Of me. The Dark Mark, I received it when I was five or something, for them. I thought they were proud at me for … you know. But now that I think about it, they never really were. I know Aunt Cissy was afraid. She never said so but she was. Mom … it was never clear, but I think she just worshipped the Dark Lord even more. The others did not utter a word. I think they were jealous I got it so young."

Dumbledore had taken a sit. Bael could not see him, but the atmosphere felt tense enough.

"I never really wanted that mark though. The only thing that made the Dark Lord accept me was perhaps because of my parents. The rest … he did not care. Left me a book and told me to study it. Left Nagini too. I don't really remember much about him. He was harsh and unforgiving, I know he always felt cold too."

"That book … is it the one you were talking about?"

Bael shuddered.

"No. The book he gave me is somewhere in my room at the Manor. But I never could open it. It was locked. It's not like I could read it at that time though."

They said nothing for a small while.

"You said you wanted to make your parents proud again. When did they stop ever being proud at you?"

The small shake od Bael's voice was heard.

"I don't know. They certainly are not anymore with Gryffindor. I wanted to make them proud but …" Bael was afraid now, " I hate it." His voice was barely above a whisper, "I hate it so much. I won't lie, I don't particularly like muggle born. But I found Hermione and Uncle Ted. I hate squibs but then I found Neville and some family. Even what they called blood traitors … I don't see it their way anymore. They used to say they would kidnap us. But they never did. If ever, they showed more kindness than my own mother did. And the Dark Lord …"

"he has a name." said slowly Dumbledore.

"Please… don't say it. I hurts."

Dumbledore indulged. Bael let out a small laugh.

"It's pathetic."

"I don't think so."

"I'm jealous and afraid. At almost 14, I'm afraid and jealous of a dead man."

"Jealous?"

Bael laughed again. It was not a joyous one.

"It's his fault my family is that way. Had he never existed, things would have been different. Perhaps my family would have loved me too."

"he certainly inspired fear in many others. Jealousy too. A Dark Lord he might have been, but he was bright."

Bael huffed in denial.

"You ought to talk to Sirius, my boy. He could understand many of your pleas. He too, looked for his parent's approval."

"But he does not want it anymore. They're dead anyway. Heard it from Mom, Walburga died in a fit because Sirius had dared to show his girlfriend to her. How insane does it prove my family to be?"

Dumbledore said nothing.

"Does it make me someone bad for seeking my parent's attention?"

"No."

The answer had cut through the tense atmosphere.

"There is nothing to shame here."

"But it's … _my_ family. Professor, they hate every one. Why can't I?"

"Do you really wish to hate people?"

"No … I mean … I'm not like them. I tried to make them laugh for as long as I can remember. But something changed with the Sorting hat. I could have gone to Slytherin. That hat … it asked me if I wanted to live or not to have regrets."

"What did you choose? To live?"

Bael, felt a surge of certainty cover him.

"No. I wanted to live without regrets. I don't like them. But now … I do have regrets."

Dumbledore said nothing for a while.

"You are looking at it from the wrong angle. You seek recognition, I think. That is not something you will see in your family for various reasons. But here, at Hogwarts, amongst your friends … you will find it. No regrets to have there."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? I don't want to sever ties with them. Not when I see what happened with Andy."

"Fair enough."

"Perhaps … I need to talk a bit with them."

"I thought you said you hated it."

"Only when it is about the Dark Lord. They can be nice too."

Dumbledore hummed a bit.

"Does your family know of your thoughts."

"No!"

The reply was much easier to say than Bael would have expected.

"They can't ever know."

"Only you can decide for yourself what you want to do."

The two wizards had not spoken to the other since that day. But Bael clearly remembered being invigorated.

 _So what if I don't share all the same opinions as my family?_

Bael had laughed heartily in a long time. And then his cousin and his merry little band of snakes had trapped him and dragged him in a compartment. That little pest had left him there for the whole day and it's his house elf that came to pick him up. Never had Bael been so humiliated. Or so he had thought. He stayed exactly 37 minutes in Malfoy Manor before disappearing through the floo. He did not want to spend the day with his family. So much to see, so little time to do it, he had said. Unfortunately, he had to come back. Only … he had forgotten a few it was supposed to be his birthday party. A party he ceremoniously crashed. Then his uncle Ted Tonks had brought him back and his Mom had seen him. With a pat on the shoulder he had left him in front of Malfoy Manor.

His ears still remembered the anguish cries of his mother. His body remembered the spells though.

Blinking twice, he had make a dive for his room, where he was punished. And behind their back, Bael had called his house elf and demanded to be brought back to Hogwarts. Naturally the house elf had complied and left him in front of the entrance with his luggage. Now, that had been a particular good escape. Flawless and silent. Even his confiscated wand had been brought back by the humble servant.

"Haha, serves them right to think they could imprison me. Now, to avoid Draco, let's turn right."

His pesky cousin had been looking for him ever since he had come back from the holidays. With glee, Bael had been very happy to let him run through the Castle. Perhaps turning in the Slytherin Common Room was not his best idea to scare him. He could already feel the rant his mother was about to write down about desecrating a noble House. Ah well. A muggle once said "you only live once".

Looking through the curtains the running small thing that was his cousin, a spark lighted his eyes.

"Found you!"

The small exclamation did not move Bael. Rooted on the floor, his eyes found those of the Slytherins he was trying so hard to avoid. And failing at it badly apparently.

"Pugginson and Greengrass. Don't the two of you just make the perfect little couple."

"Suck it Xerxès." Came the distant reply of Daphné Greengrass. "Heard you were in pretty deep."

Bael shrugged.

"Things happened. What are you doing on this lovely part of the Castle?"

"We're in the dungeons." Dead panned Pansy Parkinson.

A glare met the small eyes of the girl.

"Thank you for this formidable affirmation Pugginson. So, you were looking for me?"

The two girls merely waved to some people Bael could not see.

"Draco! He's there!"

Bael tried in vain to leave unnoticed.

"Xerxès!"

Bael turned angry.

"What do you want? If it's money, get out. Ask Mom or something."

Draco Malfoy approached. With his obnoxious sneer in place, he finally decided to open his mouth.

"You botched the holidays."

"Thank you for stating the obvious Draco." Drawled Bael already making it a point to show how uninterested he was in the conversation.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? Is it not obvious? I was making memories."

With a slight manic grin, Bael dived for an exit within a wall. The castle being friendly with him let him pass and outright closed it for the Slytherin. Thanking again his chances for having yet again a chance at escaping the clutches of his dreadful family, the boy went for a stroll.

Considering the weather – that is to say cold January temperature and enough snow to burry a small troll – the park was out of question. Either way he was forbidden to take a foot outside. Snape had not liked the snow in his room. At all. The professor had glared during the whole welcoming back ceremony, which Bael had tried hard to ignore. Instead, he had work hard to make a lasting impression on his old friends.

"Ronnald Billius Weasley, I,"

Those words were as far as he could go. In one go, the big eyes Ron had sent his way told him to just shut up. On his right side, Neville had just lightly tapped his shoulder and Hermione had brightly smiled at him.

"Don't ever say my whole name dude!" had groaned Ron while eating some chicken wing. "I don't go around shouting Baelfyre Arctyméus Black in the Castle, do I?"

The smug look had deeply offended Bael.

"How do you know that anyway. I never told you my names."

Neville had answered him, because Ron did not seem ready to answer.

"We won chess against ted Tonks."

The slight tick in Bael's eye was the only reaction.

"hey mate, what's that?" Neville was pointing at a small flying note. Bael shrugged and Ron took it.

"It's for you." He said simply handing it to Bael.

The boy grimaced. In front of his new found friends he explained.

"From the handwriting, these are from my aunt. I kind of … left a mess. Don't look at me that way Hermione. I just left the Manor. Twice. In an evening. On Christmas day …"

Hermione did not blink, which was something really.

"Bael, whatever you do with your family stays with your family. I honestly don't want to know why you probably destroyed this or that heirloom."

"What does she want?" asked curiously Neville, peering over Bael's shoulder.

"An apology I guess. With formal warning not to come back without a present and the apology." Bael read the note, "Yep. I was completely right. Just how predictable are they …"

"What are you going to give?" groaned Ron bored out of his mind.

"Who knows … I might give her some rings. She's always loved it. That, or I just will never come back to Malfoy Manor. It certainly would be awesome."

The rest of the dinner went by peacefully. The Gryffindors actually had some real rest. Of course, this atmosphere was not meant to be. The very next day, the prank war that had been on hold – due to McGonagall – began anew in the common room. Or at least, that is what the Gryffindors thought. They were quickly proven wrong when they saw students suddenly jumping three feet in the air for no reason.

It was shown Fred and George were actually responsible for that one prank. Ron and Bael had only replicated the spell in the Slytherin common room. To the twos glee, they saw almost the whole Slytherin Common Room go through the infirmary. On this very fine day, the two old friend made up with a very manly hug. Even the Howler sent by Ms Weasley did not erase Ron's smile. His grin gave him a detention with Filch (Snape's doing apparently – Neville believed in a dark story of soap through the corridors, he certainly had heard people complaining about that). In merely two weeks in the new year, the Gryffindor hourglass had taken a huge blow. The dent was sizeable and even Bael seemed to try to make up for it in class.

Just as the two troublemakers were going up the stairs after another new bout with Filch (cleaning the whole trophy room without magic was perhaps the most disgusting the two had ever done had said Ron. Neville pointedly did not ask about the snails he had found in their hands one evening), they met Snape and Quirrel. The greasy professor sent a withering glare towards the small boys but did not say a thing. Quirrel ried to say something, but there, Bael had strolled past him without stopping. Ron could feel the house points going down but he was honestly too tired to care.

"Ha, I need to take a good shower!" claimed loudly the red head while waiting for the Fat Lady to open the entrance to their Common Room. And as if Ron had asked the Castle, he was showered with water.

"Whoever you are, I hate you." Muttered the boy. Bael, just as wet as his friend fell on the floor in a mess.

"Freeed! So not fair. We weren't ready." Articulated the boy.

In front of the two boys, the twins were holding their wand, laughing merrily.

"Expect the unexpected little bro'"

Ron groaned again, and took his friend's arm. He dragged him next to their common room's fire for a quick drying up.

"Next time, we are so taking the secret passageway to the Common Room" muttered the boy.

"Hmmph. Whatever." Said Bael, still in a heap on the floor. "Hey Nev'!'Mione!"

The two gryffindors were talking quietly in a corner. At the call of their names, they went towards them. They took the sofa and helped Ron on a chair.

"You want to stay on the floor?" asked very timidly Hermione, touching with the tip of her wand Bael's backside.

" 's comfortable enough"

They left it at that. No need to ask more about their weird friend. He always some weird tendencies anyways, according to Neville.

"Well, listen Bael, we need to tell you something. _Don't you dare sleep on us here!"_ Hermione's shrill voice brought back to reality Bael. With his eyes wide open – too wide to be natural – he listened to his friend. Hermione send him questioning glance but continued nonetheless. "Nev', Ron and I, we discovered Snape was trying to steal something which is protected by a Cerberus in the forbidden room on the third corridor."

Nobody talked.

"say something!" said Neville in an angry hushed whisper.

"hmm … what is protected?"

"yes … well … we don't really know." Answered Ron. Hermione took the hot potato out of Ron's hands quickly.

"We do know that it's small – it can stay in Hagrid hands – and it is linked to a man named Flammel."

Bael's head left the floor.

"Flammel? As in Nicolas Flammel?"

"… I don't know." Said Neville while Hermione was contemplating his words, "Do you know him?"

Bael's frown said it all.

"Well, not personally, but his name is really famous in the Wizarding World. Or so I thought until I met you three uncultured behinds."

"Now's not the time for jokes.", Hermone swatted his pick away like it was nothing. He pouted half a second before continuing.

"He invented the Sorcerer's stone."

"That's it!" exclaimed Neville! "that's what Snape is trying to steal!"

The boy was very happy to finally accuse his worse enemy. But Bael did not share his enthousiasm.

"Nev', mate, think for a second. What would Snape gain from an immortal life? He's already alone and snarky. No need to add some more ... wait a sec'! I forgot to tell you but when I was in the forest the other day" the slight frown from Hermione indicated that she was not aware of this particular excursion but otherwise nobody said a thing. It was almost a reputation Bael had created around himself: going out at night out of Hogwarts grounds.

"What is it?" wondered Ron amused

"I stumbled upon a dead unicorn. Somebody was drinking from it too."

The strangled noise Ron made was overruled.

"What!?" said Hermione, "But whoever drinks from a unicorn's blood …"

"… is forever haunted. Half alive, half dead. Semi animi." Completed Bael, eyebrows still creased.

"Do you think Snape could have … ?" wondered Hermione

"yes." Said Ron very sure of him.

"Dunno." Had said Bael at the same time, "I observed the map a lot these last few weeks. Lot's of people go to the third corridor. All of the teachers do. And I mean _all_ of them."

"yes but at night? Remember, we saw Snape the other night next to the room. He seemed suspicious." Remarked Ron.

"Yeah well … I think the dude named Fluffy is more suspicious. He _always_ is on the third corridor. Perhaps he is invisible or something."

Neville cleared his throat.

"erh …. Actually, that's the Cerberus's name."

"… You're joking, right? Who names a beast?" said slowly the metamorphmagus, processing the information with difficulty.

"Hagrid." Blundered Neville, satisfied with the shocked expression from his friend. It was not often one could oblige such a reaction from the boy.

"I am … at a loss of words." He said simply.

"Don't be over dramatic." Whispered Hermione looking intently at the fire.

"Hey guys, who's Riddle? Tom Riddle?" asked Ron.

Hermione and Neville whipped their heads towards Ron. Their friend had the Marauder's map in his hands.

"Look at that. It's Quirrel's tag. It's flickering …"

Neville leaned down to see it too but he saw nothing.

"ha … no. I must have imagined it." Finally said Ron.

"It could have been a ghost?" offered Hermione, "You told me ghosts only appeared on the map when you go through one."

Neville nodded.

"Yeah. It just seemed weird."

"Nah, Ron. Hermione's right. Tom Riddle must be dead anyway. He was a prefect 50 years ago."

"What?" asked Ron, "How do you know that?"

"Dude," Bael rolled his eyes, "we just cleaned the Trophy room. And one of them was for him for service given to the school."

"Well, you just said it. We were cleaning. Not learning."

"Whatever," smirked Bael, "You're jealous you don't have an awesome memory like me!" boasted the boy. Ron humphed.

"You have a selective memory at best. You chose to ignore Parkinson the other day, like she was dirt on your shoe or something …"

Bael's smug look returned.

"Well it's Pugginson. Of course I'm gonna treat her like this."

"What has she done?" asked Neville. The boy heard Hermione closing a book he had no idea she had opened.

"I'm going to bed. I don't need to hear _again_ about Pansy Parkinson."

"Nighty night!" sung Bael in an horrible voice.

Hermione left quickly with a smile.

"Well, Pugginson is just ugly and dumb. Which I try to point out as many time as I can." Finally said Bael. Neville rolled his eyes in a _typical of you_

"Nope! She cut down his snake plushy when he was seven and he resents her since then! Night boys!" screamed Hermione with a devious smile, breaking any semblance of friendship between her and Bael.

Neville heard the scandalized noise from Bael and outright laugh with Ron.

"it was my favorite too. Poor Sobek! You have no idea …", if Neville did not know his friend better, he would have sworn real tears were glistening on the corner of his eyes.

"Sure mate!" painstakingly said Ron between laughs.

"This was exorcism!" claimed Bael resolutely stamping his feet towards his dorms. "You traitors."

* * *

The two following months went by in a breeze for everybody it seemed, a slight event happened on St Valentine's day (Bael glaring down the black rose he had received by a deep red owl, Bael still refused to utter a word about the incident. Coincidentally, hades had swooped in and taken the rose and then left. From the grimace Bael had made, Neville had realized the rose would be taken back to his mother, who he was still not talking to and needed to apologize to), but nothing too troubling came up. The four Gryffindors were trying, and failing miserably, to be stealthy when following Snape around (Ron had gained a week worth of detention for being in the same corridor as the potion master). Without surprise either, Hermione and Bael did not see the difference in difficulty between the first spells and the new taught.

"What are you doing with that book?" asked once Hermione to Bael when they were in the library. "Need to check up on the purity of your ancestors blood or something?" came her sarcastic question when she saw the book in Bael's arms, A Nature's Nobility. Bael laughed.

"Haha, I don't really care about that. The others do though … which makes knowing they're not pure entirely so more satisfying. But to answer your question, I'm digging dirt on Pureblood families. Just in case I need some blackmail material …"

"How so?" asked unsure Hemione actually interested. The very vicious smile sent her way froze the girl.

"You see, when Pureblood families give birth to a squib, - obviously it's a shame because, well duh, no magic - but they can't know immediately he is a squib. Unless they have a wizard in their families that can see through magic, they have to wait until the child's eleventh birthday for a letter to come. So any disappearance or mysterious death between a child's eighth to eleventh birthday is suspicious. Families would have to declare their death – no Hermione they don't kill their children. People are not heartless. They send the child away in an orphanage or something. And there! You get squibs descendants if they survive."

"That's … awful …"

Bael shrugged his shoulders.

"it's been so for ages now … but no I don't know why they did that. It's just … tradition."

"Tradition!?"

Bael seemed embarrassed.

"That does not mean you have to like it. Listen Hermione, it really is a sensitive subject."

"Wait, do you know squibs?" whispered Hermione reading her friend's eyes.

"yes. Now hush and pretend I don't know any squibs or I'm so dead if any Pureblood learns of it."

Hermione was lost.

"But then, why looking for them?"

Bael bristled.

"I'm not looking for them. Merely checking facts. And gaining blackmail material."

"Whatever you say. Did you find some actually?"

Bael's smile returned.

"Were you ever doubting me? Hermione dear, I have like a huge file showcasing how un-pure some purebloods families are. That is pure galleons."

Hermione smiled back.

"Alright. So have any names to drop off?"

Bael almost barked.

"Asked this nicely. Well, recently – and I'm talking like in a 40 or so years, I can tell you the Umbridges, Bourglaff and Racky are having terrible issues to produce correct magical heirs."

"Eurgh … I did not need these kind of details. Anybody I know?"

Bael seemed to hesitate, then reconsidered.

"Well, the Bones have three distant cousins that are in reality squibs from the former Head of House, the Notts have the same kind of problem and … they are some rumors about the Parkinson, which I am currently checking. I need then to use a muggle orphanage list and that is like … such a pain!"

Hermione clapped.

"You actually have researched quiet a lot about this."

"yep." The boy said happily, "Actually Dumbledore gave me the idea to look for Muggle lists for cross-checking some facts when I asked him for some referencing."

"Wait, is that not supposed to be illegal?"

"Haha. Why would it be? You're so weird sometimes Hermione. It is just very sensitive informations and plausible for murder acts but no one cares for a snot nosed kid, right?"

"You are unbelievable. When did you meet Dumbledore anyways?"

"What? The Headmaster? This morning, caught him just before he left for the ministry."

A small silence reigned between the two children, and then Hermione seemed to understand something.

"Wait. Does that mean that Dumbledore will be gone the whole day?"

Bael arced an eyebrow but said yes with his head.

"Wizengamot sessions tend to be terribly long. I would not expect him to come back until late in the night."

Hermione frowned.

"idiot. Bael! That means nobody is protecting the Sorcerer's stone!" hissed Hermione in a very scandalous snake tone. Bael's arms went rigid for a second before his eyes went wide open.

"Merlin! You're right! I had completely forgotten about it too! Hurry, we must make it to Ron and Neville then!"

"Wait, no. We can still warn the teachers!"

Bael stilled for a moment.

"they won't believe us in the slightest Hermione. I mean, we are first years. We should not even know about that stone. And if we know about it, who else does? That is far too suspicious. I think something else is going on right now."

"No Bael!"

"Hermione!"

"Promess me to at least try to reach out for a teacher." Hermione crossed her arms. Bael huffed a small fine and hurried the girl through a passage way.

"it's almost curfew anyway. Ron and Neville should be in the Common Room. We are going to pick them up and then we will see McGonagall. Alright with that?"

Hermione followed him.

"There is something you are not telling me."

Bael glared at her.

"Fine, I still think telling the teachers is like the worst idea ever, but perhaps we could tell Snape. That way he won't do it tonight."

"What? Are you daft or something? He will attack us!"

"I don't think so. We are in the Castle. We just have to talk to him in a corridor full of portraits – not very complicated – and that way we have witnesses. He can't attack and therefore must wait until Dumbledore comes back. And then, no more troubles!"

Hermione sniffed.

"And here I thought you were a Gryffindor. You are being very sneaky lately. Anything to do with your mother dearest full bouquet of black roses?"

Bael stopped.

"That … was … low, Hermione. You promessed not to say a word about that."

Bael was terriby red.

"it might slip past my tongue …"

"Fine. We are doing it your way. Just McGonagall. Right now. Fine."

Hermione smiled triumphally.

"Don't make this face, dear Bael. There's nothing wrong with sending roses to your parents on Valentine's day."

"It wasn't me damnit! It was this stupid red owl who brought that stupid black rose and then that Hades who took it back to them. Of course _she_ would send back a huge bouquet!"

"Keep telling yourself that. You're a softie. You left that rose just for Hades to take it back to your home."

Bael sniffed.

"So not true."

"Whatever. Here we are. Big baby."


	11. Confrontation

**Alright, another week, anothrr chapter ^^**

 **Don't forger o read and review :D**

* * *

 _Chapter 11: Confrontation_

McGonagall was calmly sipping her tea when she heard three separate knockings on her office door.

"Enter." She called the student in distress. It was always a distressed student at this hour. So, she was adequately surprised when both Hermione Granger and Baelfyre Black came through her office door. Arguably the best in their year. McGonagall frowned a bit. Obviously, Miss Granger had forced mister Black to come. The poor boy seemed to be so out of place. He definitely wanted to be as far as possible from this place. Ah well. What had he done this time? Another leak into the Slytherin Common Room perhaps? Or a variant. Or, McGonagall personal favorite, a reduced giant squid in the Great Hall. Now, that had been something.

"I am listening." She said, mentioning for the two students to take a seat. Hermione complied. Baelfyre stayed standing looking dangerously at the door. He was ready to sprint. McGonagall swished her wand smoothly so that her door was firmly closed. The teacher definitely saw in her student's eyes the dim light of hope leaving his eyes. Ah well. He had always been so dramatic.

"Professor, we need to tell you something. It's urgent."

"Well go on then, miss Granger. What has you both in such a state." She glared slightly at Bael, still standing.

"It's professor Snape." Said Hermione in a hurry, pink coming through her cheeks. Astoundingly, Bael stayed stoic. "He will steal the Sorcerer's Stone tonight."

Ah. That. McGonagall certainly had not seen that coming. She had almost lost her grip on her teacup. A slight stir of her lips, she answered tersely.

"First, I don't want to know about how you know about the Stone. It's a secret, and it shall stay as one. Second of all, all the teachers here are protecting the stone. Including professor Snape. There are no dangers. This is preposterous."

"But Dumbledore is gone!"

"Miss Granger! That is a grave accusation. Return to your dorm at once."

"But … !"

"Alright professor. Good night, professor. Hermione, let's go."

Bael had finally spoken, a strange calm tone in his voice. Too calm.

McGonagall pursed her lips even more. That child was definitely going after the stone tonight. She would have to specifically watch and monitor him. Very carefully.

"I told you so Hermione!" groaned Bael once the two were out of the transfiguration teacher's office.

Hemione was running in front of him.

"Even so! She could have done something! It was like she was expecting us to discover it and then said nothing!" she exclaimed almost coming to the fat Lady's portrait.

"I don't think so. We destabilized her. She blinked too much." Hermione rolled her eyes. Only her friend would notice such details.

"Whatever. It's settled. We are taking Ron and Neville and going down to protect the stone ourselves!"

"What! But we could use the map … ah wait no. We can't. Fred and George took it tonight. And they're already gone. So … I mean yeah ok for going I suppose. But Hermione? We will have to be extra stealthy. McGonagall is so gonna look in the dorms to see if we are still in our beds."

Hermione turned abruptly.

"Well, you spent almost the whole year sneaking out. You ought to know some tricks. Perhaps a passageway out of the dorm without coming through the portrait … "

Bael smiled.

"You know me too well Hermione. That is exactly what I was thinking about. Anyway. Let's pick up Nev' and Ron. Then we must wait until midnight. That way McGonagall will turn in and saw us. I bet she's gonna put the Gryffindor ghost in front of the portrait to wait for some unsuspecting student to be out of bed."

"Wait, did that happened before?"

"Oh yes!" whispered Bael, "Ron got caught. We searched for nights for another passageway after that. Since the map does not show the ghosts, we had to look for another issue."

The two students arrived in front of the Fat Lady.

" _Marinnelian_ " said Hermione in a firm tone watching the portrait opening. "Where is that passage anyway?"

Bael smiled.

"The window. It was Ron's idea actually."

To Hermione's honor, she did not stumble upon the positively stupid idea. Their common room was in a tower. The highest of the Castle actually. With the astronomy tower.

"For once, his stupidity will be useful. Come, we must find them."

Bael grinned.

"They will be down the corner, doing some chess or something. Ron is bark mad at it too. And Nev' will be a sore loser."

Bael directed Hermione through the huge room, that for once, was not full of some spells. Ah. Wait. Hermione had just spotted a student sporting a weird mushroom on his face. Bael must have played again.

"Nev'! Ron! Hurry, come with me!" whispered hastily Hermione to their friends once she saw them. The two were very focused on their chess game – and as Bael had predicted, Neville was losing. The two boys raised their heads simultaneously.

"What's wrong?" asked Neville

"Snape is gonna take the stone tonight since Dumbledore is gone!" ushered Bael in his usual slang – slang he learnt to rile up the Slytherins suspected Hermione. Well, it worked wonders going from the upturned noses of said Slytherins whenever Bael would try to speak like an American.

Immediately, the two boys were on their feet, whispering.

"We must get going then! He won't wait till much longer!" said Neville worriedly, "He must not reach the stone!"

"Yeah! Nev' is right!" said Ron very fast, "There will be obstacles too. Any idea?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Take your wand with you. We must wait for McGonagall to come first. And cover your tracks. We will use the window to leave the common room."

It was unusual to see the four Gryffindor to go this fast to bed, but nobody said a thing. No need to. Apparently, the whole tower had already lost any hope to win the House Cup. Their Head of House too, had said with terrible despair one Percy Weasley. The episode of dancing brooms in the corridors had been forever branded in his brain (witnesses have sworn to see a broom block Percy in a closet).

As the four friends had said, they had tucked in very early. Even Ron's snores were very convincing had thought Neville with a grimace. The cat form of McGonagall had gone away quickly. Very slowly the three boys had joined Hermione in the common room, next to the window.

"It's gonna be cold guys, put on warming charms."

They listened to Bael. He was the master of escape. And avoiding how to be caught by Filch's cat.

"Alright, I fed her some fish earlier, we should not be bothered by that damn cat." Muttered Bael while opening the window, "Guys, we go left. Some stairs should appear. The last one to leave the common room must close the window. We don't want to be seen. Here we go!"

In barely 10 minutes, the small group was already down the third corridor.

"Well, that was awfully fast." Said surprised Hermione, "Let's go and see if Snape has taken the stone already or not."

The three boys followed after her, Ron closing their march to see if nothing was following them. And just as they reached the door, they saw the huge Cerberus collapsed next to an opened trap door.

"No way!" almost shouted Neville, "Snape has already gone in! Hurry guys! Let's get in!"

Fortunately for Neville, Ron had stopped him from going in.

"Mate. Look. Fluffy is waking up."

The huge teeth of the dog were forever seared into Neville's brain. He blanched and thanked Ron.

"Well what do we do now?"

Hermione pursed her lips.

"Bael?"

"Mmh, what?"

"Didn't you tell me once you could play the piano?"

Bael blinked.

"Yes. Yes I can. Why?"

Ron and Neville had eyes like saucers, possibly imagining Bael playing for his mother.

"It could come in handy … say right now. There was a musical sound just before …" Hermione replied, eyes riveted on the huge dog. Neville frowned.

"But we don't have a piano here."

"But we can transfigure a statue into one." Said Ron.

"No Ron. It's an entire part of the Castle. We can't. But! We do have Bael with us."

Bael smiled.

"You're a genius Hermione. Don't let the others say otherwise." Bael approached a wall and fondled it with soft words. "Dear Castle, I am in a dire need of a piano tonight … could you …?"

If the three others found the interaction downright disturbing, they reprimed from saying a thing. Because a piano had appeared. In the small room with the Cerberus. Bael swallowed hard as he saw that and thanked the Castle before adjusting his tie. He was the only one in his uniform too, noticed Hermione.

"Well, here goes nothing. Wish me luck, I'm going on my next grand adventure!"

"You always had a flair for the dramatics …" muttered Ron with a strong handshake. "Hurry mate."

"Yeah, what's life without a bit of danger?" mocked Neville, imitating Bael's first words. Said boy recognized his very words too.

"Be nice Mate. And I did say a bit of danger. Not run in to your death."

"Guys! Stop it. The piano is just next to the door. If you play the right notes, Fluffy should not do a thing."

Fortunately for her, Hermione was right. Bael had quickly come into the room and played a sweet melody, a very sad and slow tune. It did the work and the massie dog had comfortably dozed off, pouring a indecent amount of disgusting saliva onto Bael's head. The three Gryffindors quickly went down the trap door. They landed on a very cold floor. Suddenly the sad melody did a wrong note and a harsh jaw clenching sound was heard. Bael's cry was heard too soon following after.

"Haaaaaaaaaa!"

"No, Bael!" shouted Hermione and Ron while Neville was gaping.

Their friend's corpse landed just next to them.

"I am never listening to any of your idea!" hissed the mass on the floor.

Ron hugged Bael as if he had been dead and then had come back. Which had almost been the case.

"Gaargh! Ron! Don't do that mate."

"Yuck, you're disgusting. Is that Fluffy's saliva?" muttered Ron off-track.

"Whatever. That accursed dog got my sleeve! And would you look at that!"

Bael was pointing his arm. A small wound was bleeding. Well. Three pearls of blood only. Neville did remember some more tragic accident.

"That's going to scar!" said the boy with disdain.

"Hurry mate. We must get going. And no one cares about your appearance here …" muttered Neville at Bael and his coloring red hair.

"You don't gey it! My perfect unblemished skin is now marred with another mark!" Whimpered the metamorphmagus, his hair going an impressive shade of blue.

"Wow. Stop that now" muttered Hermione, "stop channelling your inner girl, it's downeight disturbing." She ushered harshly, moving more and more into the cavern like sttucture they had fallen in.

They did not make it far. The four of them felt something around their waist tightening.

"What's that thing?" screamed Ron

"No idea!" answered Bael, " _Flippendo! Casseo! Areoniam!_ ", the wizard sent a quick succession of spells down the floor.

"It's a devil's snare!" shouted Neville recognizing the plant with Bael's spell's light. "Someone, cast a lightning spell! It's its only weakness! I can't reach for my wand! Hurry guys!"

" _Sol Lumos!_ " shouted Hermione faster than the two other boys. A bright light appeared and blinded everybody. Successfully, the devil snare's tentacles disappeared.

"Let's not stay here." Said Ron, "There's a door over there."

They rushed to the door quickly. The next room was full a flying keys.

"ok, guys. Let's not freak out or anything but I think there's gonna be a specific room for each professor." Said Bael reverting back to his new found way of speaking. His three friends glared at him.

"Thank you, captain obvious." Raged Hermione. " We will have to find the right key if we want to go through."

"or," pointedly said Ron, "we could blast the door or the walls."

"Are you stupid?" frowned Bael, "We would collapse the ceiling. Those look like some foundation walls. Even the Castle can't do any magic maintenance in here."

Ron glared

"Yes, well sorry if I can't see magic like that. The room is full of flying keys!"

Bael scratched his head timidly. "We could try the broomsticks over there."

"Brilliant!" said the three gryffindors. Neville froze, "Wait, I can't. I'm deathly afraid of heights."

"ha. Don't worry mate!" tapped Bael, "Do the same thing as me. I never used a broom either. Well, almost. But same difference really."

"Uh, really?"

"Yep, I'm a sore loser and my parents are actually good on brooms. I hate it."

Neville sweat dropped.

"Your jealousy knows no bound, does it?"

Bael sniffed. "It was always unfair too … "heads I win, tails you lose and gnagnagna" said the boy in a shrill voice.

Neville had the distinct feeling that Bael was imitating somebody.

"Guys! Let's hurry! Snape is closer and closer to the stone and we haven't seen him at all!" ushered Ron already on his broom, going in the direction of the slowest key that Hermione had localized.

The only problem was that all of the other keys were entraving the path to the right key. Ron, who had been going all out did gain the right key, but his face could recount some nice story of war. On the other side of the room, Neville had sagely not taken the broom while Bael had tried and flew into the wall.

"You okay there?"

"… fine. The broom was not functioning."

"You took the wrong end…"

"That is so not gonna look well on the try outs for next year …"

Their ushed conversation never saw an end because Hermione had dragged them through the next one, where laid an enormous and very living troll.

"Okay." Said Bael not certain at all," Any idea?"

"AAAAAH!" screamed Ron, "We don't have time! How did Snape went past that thing!"

"It's the same that Halloween's!" cried Hermione, " _Wingardium Leviosa_ "

Her wand charmed the club which in turn knocked the troll out. The three boys looked at Hermione scandalized.

"You terrify me more than my mother." Whispered Ron in awe. Hermione sniffed, "let's go!"

"Well, Hermione. That was very efficient. Congratulations." Patted Bael.

"You cried like a little girl, don't think I did not see it too."

"What?! No! That was Ron! "

Hermione smiled a bit, "Was it now? And I thought your bro code forbade you to tell on Ron."

Bael huffed, running next to Neville and Ron to the next room, "'mione, you're one of the bros too now."

The rest died on Hermione's furious lips - she was a girl!.

When they entered the next room, an enormous giant chessboard stood before them. Ron, the undisputed master of chess, took the lead. He therefore ordered his friends to put themselves in black chess pieces as he climbed onto the black Queen. The game was organized quickly according to the rules of sorcerer's failures. That is, with violence and speed. The white pieces destroyed the black pieces and vice versa thus making fall and reducing to lint their opponents. None of the four gryffondors were serene. But Ron led the battle with a masterly hand. Only, in order to win the game, a piece had to be sacrificed. And Ron had decided he had to sacrifice himself.

"Queen in E6! Ron shouted, knowing perfectly well he would not survive the next move. The white piece in front of him pulled his arm over his head then smashed Ron's piece. Ron fell to the ground but the game could finally be won.

"Checkmate!" he said weakly

The cries of his friends crying in despair did not reach his ears. For Ron, he had won the game and helped to keep Snape from advancing. He did not even realize that Bael and Neville had approached him.

"Nev '!" With Hermione you keep going. It must not be too long before the end. Look, the exit has opened. I will go the other way to ask for reinforcements, by any means. Ron's gonna make it, you'll see, " but Bael's throat was tight. He was afraid Ron would not get away with it. His leg was twisted in a bizarre angle and he was bleeding from his face.

Neville nodded and went on with Hermione nonetheless. He too feared.

"You will come back? You won't leave us alone?!" Hermione shouted. Bael reassured her, but Hermione was far from reassured. For her, she had just abandoned one of her friends, Ron, and another was going in the other direction when he had to face a troll, a dog and a devil's snare again. No, of course, Hermione was not reassured, but she continued on her way anyway. Bael was far too stubborn for his own good. Unfortunately she could not do anything and she knew it. She also knew that he knew he would have to go through the tests in the opposite direction. She sighed and dragged Neville with her.

There, the two Gryffindors arrived in a small room with flames of all colors around them. As soon as they had crossed the threshold of the door, great flames gushed behind them. But it was not an ordinary fire: it was purple. At the same time, other flames, black this time, rose in the frame of the back door. They were trapped. In the middle of the room was a table with a parchment and multiple vials filled with potion; Hermione took the parchment and unrolled it.

"It's a test of logic, look, read":

 _In front is danger, salvation is behind.  
Two will among us lead to light,  
One of the seven forward protects you,  
And another back will abolish the trap,  
Two can only offer you simple nettle wine,  
Three are mortal poisons, promise of agony,  
Choose, if you wish to flee an eternal torture,  
To help you in this choice, you will have four clues.  
The first: however cunning their perfidy,  
The poisons are to the left of the two nettle wines,  
The second: different at each end,  
If you go forward, no one is your ally.  
The third: they are of unequal sizes,  
Neither dwarf nor giant in its midst is fatal.  
Four finally: the second, left and right,  
They are twins of taste, but disparate in appearance_

"Yes, that's it, take this Neville. There is not enough for two but I'll take another potion that will allow me to go back to help Bael and Ron. You must do your best Neville. Okay? You do not have to fight Snape, just try to slow him down as much as possible. Reinforcements should be on their way."  
Hermione handed Neville a small jar and he drank it.

Before he went through the back door through the black flames he looked at Hermione one last time. She was already disappearing behind the purple flames to help their friends. Neville swallowed. He had his belly tied up in a knot but he felt obliged to continue. For his comrades who had given themselves so much trouble to steal the stone before Snape. Especially, he felt a little responsible for what was happening to them. It was because of him that they had come to the third floor and had discovered Fluffy. He could not help but think that it was all his fault. However, he had to go on. Then he crossed the flames and reached the next room. He went into a small circular room with a large mirror rising. Above it was an inscription engraved that read "I daer hguorht ruoy s'traeh serised" and just in front of the mirror a man stood up. Only it was not Professor Snape as Neville expected. No, instead of the black dresses and the greasy hair, a man with a purple turban and an odor of rotten onions stood. Neville felt his heart flap. Bael was right. It was Quirrel who sought to steal the philosopher's stone. But the man did not seem to move and was absorbed by the mirror. He kept looking at it clearly frustrated.

Suddeny the teacher turned back his head. A vicious smile appeared on his lips.

"Longbottom! Of all the students … ah well, nothing lost. I thought Black would have come. He has always felt, since the very beginning of the year, that I was not who I seemed to be. Between us, he was not innocent either."

Neville Stayed shocked at the professor Qurirrel. The very same teacher that was afraid of his own shadow, would stutter at each words and hated Bael's guts.

"Shocked much, Longbottom? Perhaps were you waiting for that dear professor Snape to steal the stone … ah, he was a nuisance but nothing really."

"Wait! That means the troll on Halloween! That was you!"

"Very nice logic there Longbottom!" replied sarcastically the teacher, "Now let me actually do my job."

The teacher turned back to the mirror, muttering a few undistinguishable words under his breath. Neville, even through his induced shock, was determined not to let Quirrel take possession of the stone. Ans since reinforcements were on their way, Neville had just to hold him up. But, just as Neville was trying to come up with some topic of conversation to distract the evil professor, an ethereal voice came out of the turban of professor Quirrel. A voice so weak and yet so cold, it froze Neville's insides.

 _The boy … use the boy …_

"Yes, Master." simply said Quirrel, his attention solely on Neville now. With a war cry, the professor pointed his wand toward Neville. The said boy felt his feet leaving the floor and in a blink, he was already at the professor's side. Without any question, Quirrel forced him in front of the mirror. In the reflection, instead of seeing just him and Quirrel, Neville saw the Sorcerer's stone in his pocket. As if his will to protect the stone and not let it be taken by Quirrel had been understood. Rather quickly, the image faded away, but the young boy felt his pocket significantly heavier. He had the stone now.

"Can you see it? The stone, can you see it?" rushed Quirrel above his ear.

"No." lied through his teeth Neville.

 _He lies … It's in his pocket … let me talk to the boy …_

"But, Master … you're still very weak…"

 _The boy!_

"yes, Master."

On these words, instead of taking hostage Neville, like the boy had thought, the professor took a few steps back, showed him his back – which was a very poor defense, but Neville was completely entranced in what was happening – and slowly unveiled his turban. To Neville's horror, something was inhabiting the back of professor Quirrel's head. A very nasty evil spirit. Neville swallowed hard.

"You're … you are Lord Voldemort." Neville said, more for himself and show some courage than for the none-existent other people in the room. He wished he could have some ore support here. A terrifying howl came out of the new face in professors Quirrel's back of the head, and then it turned into laugher.

 _And I will be your fall, Neville Longbottom. Ever since that night, I have not forgotten you. You, a boy, humiliated me. I erred for years in a disincarnated body before finding the idiot host. Now, finally, my vengeance has come._

"Why? Why me?"

 _Ah! Why you? You are not the world, Longbottom. I chose you for reasons you can not possibly comprehend. Now, let's stop this pointless talking. We both know you are trying to buy some time for reinforcements that won't come. I made sure of it. The stone. Give it to me. Give it to me, and you shall be rewarded._

"No. I will never join you."

The face contracted a moment. Fury was the only emotion displayed.

 _Then die. I have no use of people like you._

The order was simple. And Quirrel did not question it either. He came to Neville, wand in hand, throwing curses ranging from a deep purple color to the green that haunted Neville's dreams. The small boy avoided as much as he could but the ruble on the floor made him lose his footing. He fell on the floor at the mercy of Voldemort.

"You are mine now!" screamed Quirrel advancing his hand towards Neville's wrist.

And a miracle happened. The very wrist that Quirrel touched burnt him. Neville did not hesitate. His wand had been disregarded somewhere, it laid on the floor too far from him to reach it. So, Neville lifted his hand to the professor's face. With a terrible cry, one of thousand pain, Quirrel was consumed in a raging fire. The heat was almost everywhere and the last thing Neville realized happened, was the stone in his pocket exploding.

* * *

Baelfyre Black had turned back on his steps as soon as he could. As such, he had seen Hermione's back rushing into the next door while he had tried unsuccessfully to heal Ron's wrist. The member was still dislocated. _Now, I know what I'm gonna study if I ever get out of this mess. Healing spells._ With a quick turn of his wand, Ron laid on his side in the safety position he remembered his father had taught him. Then he ripped a bit of his uniform to bandage the bleeding gaping wound after cleaning it. He transfigured just a moment later another bit of his uniform into an securing hold on his friend's broken leg.

Bael had not had much time. After these slight modifications, he had hurried back on the other rooms, a pang in his heart at letting his friends alone. But very quickly, he realized he would have some fighting to do too. Because the troll Hermione had so ingeniously knocked down with his club was wide awake. And he would not fall for the same trick twice. And Bael still had not powdered pixie with him to shock the troll like Halloween.

"By Merlin's soggy underpants." Cursed Bael while avoiding the monstrous beast and the flying rocks. He did not entirely succeed and a rock hit him on the eyebrow. His eyesight was now blurred and a flow of blood was freely coming down.

"It's nothing … just the eyebrow … I can't see damnit!"

Bael raged. He tried to use his robes as a bandage to absorb the blood but this action was slowing him down considerately. He did not have time with the troll. Perhaps he could just cross the room longing the walls.

The troll's club landed a mere meter away from him.

Or perhaps he could not.

"Come on! Baely, think good think fast." Encouraged the child. It was working. Slowly a plan blossomed in his head. Bael pointed his wand to the rubbles.

" _Incarfors_ " he screamed. Thankful for his spell to have worked, he was happy to see the rubbles transfigurating into a thick but beautiful silver rope. Bael reprimed a groan. He did not want a beautiful silver rope. Ah well, it would still work.

" _Wingardium leviosa, Circum"_ At his command, the rope elevated slightly into the air and was tied around the troll's feet. Bael's plan almost work. The troll almost fell. But his club was stil launched right toward Bael. The boy could not fully avoid it and was thrown into a wall. Per chance, the he did not receive much damage. His vision was getting blurrier though. Bael also realized that with this throw, he was closer to the exit than he had realized.

"Perfect." Muttered the boy, raising from the floor slowly with the help of the wall. But the troll was also getting up ans was advancing toward Bael. A rush of adrenaline cursed through Bael's veins. He suddenly thought about his friends who were fighting Snape right now and probably failing like him. He cried out the first formulae he knew.

" _Bombarda maxima et expulso"_

The spell was meant to do damage. Lots of damage. Bael had closed his eyes either way. This spell was his mother's spell. A specific spell to get rid of things. _Very Death-Eater like_ thought Bael darkly. He opened his eyes to see the troll on the opposite side of the room, a gush of green blood flowing from his head.

Bael was now officially crying. Which really did not help with his eyesight. Nonetheless he ran and ran to the end of the room, went past the key room without so much as a thought and stopped in front of the devil's snare.

"I need a way to go up"

Without waiting too much he ran back to the key room and took a broomstick. Checking the right end of the broom this time – he would not tell Neville – he flew out. He was actually good on a broom. Not as good as his parents but good enough that he could outflew his cousin. Ah. Well.

Bael made a bee line for the trap door and did not even feel the devil snare's tentacles that almost broke his ankle. Hissing a bit in pain, Bael also did not expect Fluffy to be awake.

"Ah, I had forgotten that thing."

But he did not have time. The door to the third corridor was open and Bael flew right into it. Unfortunately, the Cerberus followed him. For some reason, Bael was not as scared as he had been. The troll had been too much probably, his brain had since long been in overload of beasts, completely disconnected. The chase in the corridor was actually comical. Bal had waved his wand around, spells going everywhere, lightnings crashing into windows to make as much noise as possible and attract attention. Even the bell hung on the ceiling went down and trapped Fluffy, putting a stop to the wild goose chase. Bael grinned. He always had been terribly lucky.

"Ok, with all that noise, they should be coming down in a few."

But Bael had waiting for almost a good five minutes and still nobody came.

"Could it be … castle? You did not tone down the noise?"

A shiver went down a wall and Bael cursed his luck. The Castle was protecting him. Of all the nights, could it not understand his dire need of help right now. But he complied. He racked his fingers and took the broom.

"To the Gryffindor tower!"

He went up, and met nobody. Not a soul in the corridors.

"Oh come one … castle help me find people … for once ..."

The boy was beginning to be distressed. Not a good kind too. His blurry eyesight was getting worse by the minute and he could literally feel his friends dying on him.

"Come on … I was not supposed to be the last one standing." He muttered.

Bael stopped right at his Head of House office. Well, she would probably have his hide but there was no stopping Snape right now. He did not knock. He tried to blunder the door with huge cries.

"No way! She's not there!"

Bael felt like crying all over again. Even the portraits he had met refused to wake up. This was scandalous. Fine. The Castle would not help him. He would have to make everybody notice him. Not complicated.

"sorry." A whispered apology later, Bael was out in the park, landing harshly in the mud (covered in mud and blood, pathetic. He dared hope nobody he knew would see him like this) outside of the Great Hall. He came in with a lot of efforts – even the doors felt heavier.

"My bad … to unleash the blight huh … alright. Sorry buddy but I must do it."

Bael centered himself in the middle of the room.

"Feel the tremor! _BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"_

A huge noise followed his words. But Bael did not hear it at all. He had the distinct feeling the whole Castle would hear the screams of the paintings, the haunts of the ghosts and the anger of the Castle. It would be very soon before teachers would poor in the hall. That and a passageway to the third was right before his eyes. Bael fell down. There were shards flying.

* * *

A very common knowledge was the hours the prefects scoured the Castle. Then it was the professors turn. What nobody knew, was that at 2 am, everybody was fast asleep. Suspecting teachers would sometimes go down if they thought a student was out, but usually, nobody was there. But amongst the teacher staff, some were stricter than others. For example, McGonagall refused to go to sleep if she had not the certitude all of her students were in bed. As such, she would be checking the dormitories twice. One the first hour of the curfew and one just before she would go to sleep. Naturally, she sneaked past the portrait without much trouble.

"Good."

The teacher had just checked the girl dormitories, and all were in their beds. Breathing normally. McGonagall steeled. _Breathed?_ A sudden terror claimed her veins. She came back on her steps and pushed the curtains of one Hermione Granger. As clever as the young witch was, she had not charmed her bed and the pillows that were taking her place to be breathing. McGonagall had a sharp intake of breath. She had known she would leave. Her and her little gang of friends had voiced their fears of the stone being stolen.

McGonagall hurried down the stairs to the boy dormitories. Perhaps, they did not always listen. Mister Longbottom seemed like a reasonable boy. Her hope fell right when opening the door. The three Gryffindor had not even deem it worthy to charm their beds. There, they laid empty.

"How did those four even leave the tower?" muttered the teacher terribly angry. She wiped her wand and left the tower, ready to go on a student hunt. She vaguely heard bells ringing.

"The Astronomy tower? What is happening?"

The teacher left with hurry, not noticing the sound had been muffled by the Castle. As she arrived in the tower, she realized her mistake. Even the paintings told her nothing had happened in this place for a few hours. As the professor frowned, she recalled her evening.

"They would not have gone …"

 _Oh yes they would have._ Told her brain.

Now, the transfiguration professor was definitely mad. And just as she was about to go down the third corridor, a huge tremor shook the Castle to its foundations.

"Dear Merlin! What have they done!?" shouted the professor, hung on a wall. Her second reaction was to regret the House Cup she definitely would not win this year again. She hurried down to the Great Hall where she suspected the students to be.

"They'd better have a great excuse." Hammered the witch in a war tone snarl. Really, who thought it would be a good idea to blow up some walls in a scient entity?

* * *

Hermione was desperately alone and very scared. Yet she did not stop on her way. She had gone back to Ron as soon as possible. There she had seen that he was sitting against the wall and was sleeping peacefully. Or not. He still had a broken leg and a bandage that resembled Bael's jacket around his head. Hermione stopped for a moment to check that Ron was breathing well. Then she tried to stretch him into a safe position without waking him up. She succeeded as best she could, and she got up. She wiped her sweaty forehead and watched the exit.

She took a deep breath and rushed to the room. There too she raised her wand ready to cast a spell as soon as the troll advanced. She did not expect to see the room half destroyed and a troll on the ground that really did not move at all.

"Black! If I ever put my hand on you ... " Her shout scared no one, but Hermione could not help but be afraid. Her friend had to do a hell of a fight to do as much damage. Because the teachers had not yet arrived so it was certainly not them who had massacred this unfortunate troll.

Hermione swiftly walked into the troll room and crossed the key room as well. Arrived in the cavern she lit her wand immediately so that the net of the devil did not reach her and she approached the wall. Touching the walls, she discovered a stone she could push in. That's what she did. Beneath her eyes, stairs appeared.

" Perfect !" Hermione said to herself.

She climbed as fast as she could the stairs and she took her breath. She then gently pushed the hatch to the side and was surprised not to see Fluffy. Indeed, in the entrance hall, one could see the remains of a grand piano and pieces of wood.

 _The door_ thought increasingly more worried by the second Hermione.

The first thing that crossed Hermione's mind was that Fluffy had escaped and had smashed the door. Her second was that it was not the dog responsible for all this capharnaum but her friend.

"But what has he done? Between that and the troll ... I hope nothing serious happened to him. "

Hermione crossed the room all the way and came out into the corridor. Here she discovered the bells and the tail of the Cerberus, which protruded from one fallen bell. The heavy metal bell must have imprisoned the dog.

"He's completely mad ... he has ..."

She did not finish her sentence. A terrible earthquake had just shaken the castle to its foundations. Hermione obviously fell to the ground at the huge tremor. She did not know where the noise came from, it seemed as if it came from everywhere all at once. She also did not know if the noise came from Neville who was fighting Professor Snape or if Bael had just lost his last shred of sanity. She opted for the second option. She did not see Neville exploding something and cause an earthquake. Snape either. He had to be discreet.

"He must have awakened the whole castle!"

Hermione rubbed her temples. She had to think quickly. Snape was powerful and very sure of him. She did not think the other teachers could reach him. Except for McGonagall and Flitwick. But with Bael's tantrum, they must already be on their way. So it was not them who had to be warned. Suddenly she heard a hoot near her. An Hogwarts owl had just landed beside her.

"Dumbledore!" Nearly shouted the young witch happily.

Hermione hurried to send a note to Dumbledore. She found a rock, engraved her word, and gave it to the owl, which was to transmit it to Dumbledore. Hopefully he would intercept it and come back very quickly. Reinforcements were to arrive. She hoped for it very strongly. So that her friends do not die.

* * *

Severus Snape was a serious teacher. Certainly, he absolutely hated all the children but he did all his homework on time. So, at around two o'clock in the morning, he was in the dungeons, checking that no one was in the vicinity. Not a child in sight, perfect. He could go to bed.

He reminded himself he had not seen Professor Quirrel and hoped nothing had happened to the stone. The potion master wanted to go up to check but remembered that it was not his turn to guard today. He fell asleep in his bed without more ceremonies, though a bit embittered not to have caught Black tonight. He knew that the little thug was walking almost every night in the castle. He had not caught him once. On the other hand, he was persuaded to have seen his shadow countless times.

He cursed the castle in his mind again thinking that the magical entity had to protect the child.

The potions master shook his head. He did not need to think about this troublemaker tonight. It was such a peaceful and quiet night after all. He closed his eyes ... to open them immediately after. A deafening sound coming from the Great Hall had just provoked an earthquake in the castle.

"Cursed be thou student! " ironically snapped the wizard.

Yes, the person who had caused this noise was going to pay for it very dearly. He detested being interrupted in his sleep.

Snape then went out of the dungeons very quickly. His black robes flying behind him, he passed the Slytherin common room and went on, then he changed his mind. With all this noise, all the students had to be awake. He went back to the common room and opened the door. The show which welcomed him was that of panic-stricken students who shouted in all directions. A hell he had seen in some time now.

"Silence! And in bed! I do not want to see anyone standing! Hogwarts is not in a state of siege! Now, _go back to sleep_!" Snapped Snape. He looked at the little crowd with a murderous look. It quickly got to bed again.

Before leaving the common room however he put a spell that allowed him to alert him who would try to get out of the room for the next three hours. He also put a stunning spell in place for good measure. That way, the little fools would not try to go out tonight. Or just would not move an inch.

Snape hurried out and ran to the Great Hall. Just before arriving in front of the room he saw Professors Flitwick, Sprout and McGonagall heading for him. Obviously, they too came down to know who had dared to make such a din in the castle.

"By Merlin's beard, Severus you are here finally! "Barked Minerva McGonagall

"I had students to manage"

"We do not have time to look after the students now! " replied the witch, voice tight.

And all four of them went to the Great Hall. Or rather what was left of it. That is to say the walls. Everything else was gone.

The professors were so stupefied by the disorder (they kept shouting) that they forgot to speak.

"A very devastating spell" ended up saying Filius Flitwick.

A plethora of insults passed through Minerva McGonagall's lips and she walked toward the center of the room.

"If ever it turns out that young Black is responsible for this bazaar, I will talk directly with his mother! "

"He is quite capable of it." muttered Snape.

Then he stopped suddenly. He had just seen the body of the accused. However, he was very badly off. He breathed deeply. He did not really know where the blood was coming from. Especially since the blood had been mixed with mud ...

" Oh my!" Exclaimed Professor Sprout, "but what could have put him in this state? Certainly not the ghosts. "

Black stood with difficulty. He raised his head with a small smile when he saw the professors. And that faded away when he realized that Snape was here.

"You! "Accused Bael

Snape raised an eyebrow, "Yes me. Who were you expecting? Now Black explanations! "

The latter spat blood and refused the help of the professors. However, he did not really stand up and he would soon collapse. Then he said the last few words that passed through his mind.

«Stone ... steal... Nev' is down there.»

He coughed again and implored his professors with his eyes.

"Quick, Help"

The professors looked at each other for a moment.

"It's impossible Black. I do not know how you know for the stone but it is perfectly safe. Do not worry, "McGonagall said.

However Black's murderous look cut off the witch. His eyes turned green and he looked at Snape for a moment.

"Riddle was on Quirrel, that's" Bael coughed in moment of sudden clarity, "what Ron said ..." before leaving the conscious world.

Snape caught him before he touched the ground, but he was tense. The other teachers, too. Because Riddle was the other name of Voldemort, that luch was ommon knowledge in the member of the old Order of the Phoenix.

The decision was prompt and without appeal. Sprout stayed with Black to take him to the infirmary while the other three teachers hurried up to the third floor. A passage had just opened to let them pass.

The professors ran at full speed and when they reached the floor, a chaotic landscape welcomed them. The bells had fallen on the watchdog and Hermione Granger rested on the floor, asleep.

"She's alive and not in danger of death," Fltitwick announced before hurrying to the trap door

"But what happened here?" McGonagall murmured, looking at the bells. She had just guessed that Fluffy was right underneath, but why was he there, she had not the slightest idea.

Once inside, the three adults saw again a landscape as destructured as the corridor. A remnant of piano and shards of wood everywhere. They continued on their way nevertheless. They passed the first two rooms very quickly and arrived in the troll room. There lay a mountain of dirt, the only remains of a dead mountain troll. The adults were surprised. This could not be the result of a student.

They continued to advance and discovered a Ronald Weasley who was in a bad state and in need of immediate care. However, he could still wait a little while. Then the three professors continued and finally arrived in the last room where Neville Longbottom laid next to the remnants of the philosopher's stone and the empty dresses of one professor Quirrel.


	12. End of the year

**Sorry for the wait. I was too busy last night to post it ^^'**

 **Anyway, here it is, hope you'll like it.**

* * *

 _Chapter 12: End of the year_

Neville could vaguely smell the rancid odor of disinfectant through his nose. Nasty. Well, that was the only thought that he could register. Perhaps he was finally dead, was his second thought. Voldemort had achieved his goal.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Would he see his grandfather there? He could see a silvery form hovering in front of him. Was that somebody's hair? But his grandfather had been bald ... And then, his eyesight became clearer, and the form was identified as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore.

Now, Neville perked up. That certainly grabbed his attention, he was not dead. The old wizard gently smiled at the boy while Neville realized he was in the infirmary ward.

"Hello Neville. How do you feel?" acknowledged Dumbledore. Neville looked at him for a full 5 seconds, still shocked to see the professor at his bedside, before remembering he was being rude by not answering.

"Oh. Fine, professor. Hum. Where am I?"

"The infirmary, my boy. I'm afraid your altercation with Voldemort left you magically drained. Fortunately, the teachers came fast enough to help you …"

Neville did not understand.

"But … what happened? I mean, Quirrel. He was … and Voldemort… And the Stone!"

A smile crept up on Dumbledore's beard.

"A magnificent act of courage, if I do say so myself. Your battle with Voldemort was inspiring. Truly. As for the stone, I'm afraid it was destroyed. But fear not. Nicholas and Perenelle were ready to go through the next adventure. They had been waiting for a couple years. And as to how you came to be there … well, you have wonderful friends. And some crazier than others. I believe Mr Black braved the Castle's might to wake up the professors. He blew up the Great Hall. And they are still cross at the moment."

Neville imagined Bael for a fleeting moment. He could see him begging the Castle to forgive him already.

"Hum. Yes … Bael _is_ crazy. Was he hurt? And Ron? Hermione?"

"Miss Granger is fine. She caught up with the lessons and was worried about you. Mr Weasley sustained more wounds but he's been out of danger for a small while now. He left the infirmary yesterday. And Mr Black has been healed for a few days now, but refuses to leave the infirmary in fear of the Castle's retaliation. Or so he says." A twinkle of amusement crossed Dumbledore's features. "The end of term's exams are near, though. He will be extremely pleased to know the classrooms are not subjected to the Castle's will, don't you think?"

Nevile chuckled at the certain scream of horror that would filter through Bael's mouth.

"Wait, professor. When I touched professor Quirrel … I burnt him. Do … do you know why?"

The Headmaster was not surprised. He exhaled a bit but answered Neville.

"Quirrinus Quirrel was possessed by Voldemort."

Neville repressed a shudder.

"Don't ever fear that name, my boy. This only accentuate the fear of the man."

Neville frowned.

"Bael is afraid of that name."

And now, Neville was sure the Headmaster pursed his lips.

"Yes. I am aware of this."

"You know why."

This was not a question. Dumbledore merely looked at him.

"I do. If you want to know why, perhaps you ought to ask him yourself."

Neville nodded. He would. As soon as he would be out of here too. And if Bael could answer him truthfully.

"My boy, do you know what happened the night Voldemort was destroyed?"

"That night … six years ago … I don't remember. Only a flash a green light."

"Well, that night Voldemort wanted to attack the whole British Wizarding World. Assaults were given in all the important places and yet, he was seen only once, at your hiding place. I tried to retrace Voldemort's part in that night. And I have only few clues. Whispers in a terrible night mainly."

Neville frowned.

"Was it really organized? I thought he wanted to terrify people."

Dumbledore's sad gaze deeply touched Neville.

"I hardly can think of Voldemort as a brawler. He had a precise plan that night, not one to terrify people. he had already achieved that goal a few years prior." Dumbledore stopped to think a moment. "What is sure, is that the love your parents had – and have – for you was what destroyed Voldemort. Still today, what burnt Quirrel was the love they hold for you. As for Quirrel … he was already irredeemable. He chose to accept Voldemort's wraith in his body. He chose to drink unicorn's blood …"

"But … Vol… You-know-who … why is he still here? I mean, should he not have been dead?"

"I believe he was not completely destroyed that fateful night." answered truthfully the Headmaster.

"Does that mean he will come back?"

Dumbledore paused.

"yes. I believe so. But that is for another day."

The headmaster woke up.

"Wait! Professor. What of Bael? His parents are Death-Eaters … aren't they?"

Dumbledore looked at him again, imperturbable.

"Yes. They are. It will be his choice to follow in their footsteps or not. But bear in mind, he probably won't have a choice. Also, don't ever believe the appearances. For a fact, young Mr Black here absolutely hates Voldemort. But I do think a part of him admires him. It is only natural when a young child meets a powerful wizard, even if back then, he did not have the full comprehension of what was happening to him."

"Bael … harbored hatred to the lord his parents followed …" repeated Neville

"Well, the line between hate and love is thin. I don't believe he will blindly follow anyone though. His pride won't take it."

"Bael listens to his aunt. The nice one, I mean." Muttered Neville remembering Christmas tales with a smile.

"Yes." Dumbledore smiled, "Don't ever let it be heard that the young Mr Black knows of his extended and disowned family." - Neville snorted, Bael was known as a encyclopedia of pure-blood genealogy - The Headmaster changed the subject of conversation abruptly. "When the time comes Voldemort will be back, you will be the first to know it. There is still much time ahead of us. When you are older, I will tell you what I gathered of Voldemort's plans. Mindsets are easily changed in our world. It is possible, he himself changed his way of thinking during that very night or those that led to it. For now, let's celebrate for your recovery. Voldemort is but a ghost of the past."

Neville's mind did not register the last words of the headmaster. His head was spinning and he was plunging towards his pillow, vaguely seeing the form of the Headmaster leaving.

* * *

When Ron woke up the very first time, he was alone. The second time, somebody was talking.

"Up! Mr Weasley! UP!" the harsh voice of Ms Pomfresh reached his sensitive ears. "The day will soon begin. The lessons are in 30 minutes. Now, go, you are fully healed."

The witch in front of him was waving a suspicious looking potion in her hand. Ron swallowed hard. _I'm never drinking this thing._ And here he thought he was dreaming.

"But … what happened?"

The last thing he could effectively remember without fainting was a huge chess board. And he was winning the party for sure. At least, he thought so …

In the end, the nurse had reasoned him to drink the awful potion – more like threatened him to do so – and Ron had left in a hurry for his common room. Apparently, the day was just beginning and he still had to fetch his bag. He hoped he would be able to grab one of his friend to tell him what had happened before lessons could begin. He was so going to drop out if it was history of magic though.

"Hermione!"

Ron called his friend forth. She was in the common room, leaned over a pile of parchment. She raised her head hastily and smiled when she saw him.

"Ron! I did not know Ms Pomfresh had let you go so soon. She was in such a state when you were brought back."

And with excitation, the witch managed to tell Ron what happened.

"Wait … you mean to tell me … Snape was not … is not …the culprit."

Hermione blushed.

"He is no murderer."

Ron snorted.

"That … actually remains to be proved. Dad says he was a Death-Eater."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, Mr Death-Eater decided to help you, you dimwit."

Ron repressed a gag but certainly did not argue the help given.

"So … Nev' and Bael are still in the infirmary ward?"

Hermione indulged a smile.

"Well, Neville is resting and Bael is throwing a tantrum. Or the Castle is. No one can tell. He was one of the first ready to go back to school but … the Castle has been blocking him. He was found yesterday in a hole by Slytherins."

"I bet that went well." Smirked the boy, imagining an irate Bael found by Draco. He could also imagine the spells exchanged.

"They all spent a day in the infirmary."

Ron laughed heartily. Exactly as he had predicted. Hermione shared his mirth of the day.

"By the way, let's hurry, we have History of Magic in a few minutes. Oh and your brothers want to talk to you I think … They said something about your mother but I'm not sure … You know Fred and George are not really the most trusting people I know."

But Ron had suddenly paled.

"Mom … Did she visit? Holly Merlin … I'm in deep dragon dung right now. I need to … LETTER! Now!"

He hurried off to his dorm to write an apology letter to his mom and his forever honesty not to pull that stunt again. Perhaps a few tears here and there to make it more believable and it should be sufficient.

"Oh, and did we lose a lot of House points?"

Hermione pursed her lips.

"Not for the Sorcerer's stone. For Bael only. That idiot blew up the Great Hall, woke up the whole Castle at night and attacked Slytherins on his way back to the common room. A grand total of 457 points lost."

"Wait … why the 57 …?" asked perplexed Ron

"He painted the dungeons red." Murmured Hermione distracted. "ghosts were also painted."

"I thought he was at odds with the Castle." Replied Ron with a frown.

"He says it was a part of the redeeming dare the Castle imposed on him. He even walked with a pink mohawk for a day or so. Each pike cost us a point, courtesy of Snape."

Ron blinked three times.

"And … you're okay with that?" incredulously asked Ron. Hermione huffed.

"No. I'm just used to his stupidity by now."

"There is something you are not telling me." Replied frowning Ron. "Homework much?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and handed him the huge pile of parchment.

"Just take my notes."

Ron wisely chose not to tell her his whole classes had not used so much parchment as her notes had.

"Thank you."

Ron took his bag and threw unceremoniously the pile inside. The bright smile of his brothers, Fred and George, caught him before he left the common room with Hermione, still talking about House points.

"Well, little brother. Your metamorphmagus friend decided to pass up as a Ravenclaw, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin in turn to lose enough points and give us an edge over the other houses."

"No wayyy …"

"yes way. Malfoy and his cronies are …"

"… spending an awful time with the Headmaster."

" And their parents!"

"For desecrating the park or something like that. I think it had to do with a portrait of Salazar Slytherin." Finished one of the twins.

"And he did not get caught?"

They shrugged.

"he mysteriously disappeared from the park. I swear he's part chameleon." Said Hermione.

"Well, dear Hermione .." began one twin,

"He is metamorphmagus."

"He can blend in perfectly well!"

Hermione stopped.

"Wait, you do know where he was?"

The twins winked and left an intrigued Hermione behind.

"Don't bother. We'll just have to ask Bael when we see him." Grunted the little brother with the huge pile of parchment which refused to stay put in his bag - wait, was there an ejecting spell inside? "Now, did you just say we have History of Magic?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm not going to let you miss the lesson." she nagged.

* * *

Bael opened his eyes several times. Well. He tried to, at least. Perhaps, he was being blindfolded to soothe his eyes. They had burnt him some time before but now ... A fear took hold of Bael's heart for a fleeting moment. Was he really blind? He usually could sense people appoaching, kindness of their magic. But here, darkness was around him like a curtain. Soft, calm, stillness was the definite sense. An absolute way.

Bael feared it. That nothingness stroke him. Reminded him even of a time, of a childhood, spent in loneliness. Oh, he was not blind per see. But he just … could not see magic anymore. That spark of joy surrounding wizards and witches. He always had a knack for seeing it. His mother had told him it went with his metamorphmagus abilities. He would not say otherwise. He did not care either. The point was that he had always seen the world in deep colors. The personal Healer had told him so too. People like him used to be there aplenty. Now, after the war … a handful at most bear that gift.

Consequently, it was also the source of his distaste of muggle. Because muggles don't have magic. They miss the spark that color the veins, the faces and the hearts. The last time his mother had gone without him in the muggle world – which, granted, was a long time ago and a terribly scarce event in itself – he had had a panic attack. To this day still, muggles panicked him. Or at least, he was uneasy around them. Even inferi had a thin line of magic connecting them to their original wizard. Granted, you had to clench your eyes a lot to see it, but it was there. Muggles … nothing. Much like it was now.

Which led him to the conclusion he was not at Hogwarts anymore. Because Hogwarts was brimming with magic, almost blindingly so.

He was somewhere, deep in the non-magical world. Or so he thought.

"Well, Mr. Black, I know you are awake. Do take your potion and leave."

The nicely cold voice of Ms Pomfresh, the Hogwarts nurse reached his ears. Bael, who still could not see, sat upright as if a lightning bolt had struck him.

"I can't see."

The panicked voice that came through his hoarse neck was not something he would like anyone to hear.

"That will come back. The flow of magic was averted from your eyes. You do see. In darker tones."

Bael purposely did not say _he could not see at all_ and let it slide. In his best imitation of Draco, he demanded the potion with a beautiful sneer. She gave it to him. With no words. Now, that piked his interests.

"Your parents visited shortly before you woke up."

The young student did not say a thing. He merely waited for more information, abandoning the whole pedantic act. When none came, he changed the subject of conversation. He did not crave his parent's attention. Not anymore. Or so he thought. A pang in his heart told him it was not entirely true. There once was a time he would have gone through hell and back to just hear of their approval. Now, after the numerous disappointed stares, he found himself … not caring as much. Perhaps, if things could go back to a simpler time, a time he possibly could not remember. A time people used to smile when they were happy. A time where muggles were not that hated. A time when marrying outside of family was not so heavily frowned upon. Yes, these times before Voldemort.

 _If they ever learn I took some semblance of part in Voldemort's demise, I'm as good as gone. I ought to visit the others now …_

"Is Neville ok now?"

"Mr Longbottom needs more rest."

He let it at that. Dark memories were already plaguing his thoughts, if even his friends were not around, things would go dark for a while in his mind. He hated it so much.

 _What will I do when he comes back? The fateful question ..._

Bael cradled his left arm, where he knew the Dark Mark to be. His had not burnt in forever. Something about a magical contract that could not act up before 15.

 _Next year, I'll be 15. I wonder if I'll feel it burning or something ... Ron told me his brother could probably reverse-ingeneer some of the tracking spells if I needed to leave ..._

A sharp intake of breath after his somber thought, Bael realized somebody was standing next to him. He frowned.

"Who are you?" he rudely asked.

Nobody answered.

"Lemon flavored smell. Mixed with the definite smell of old people. You're the Headmaster …" answered Bael for himself after a full minute.

An old laugh reached his ears.

"You, my boy, have some fine sensory smells."

Bael groaned.

"I swear the corridor thing was not my fault."

"I am not here for these little incidents." Continued Dumbledore, "Some beans?"

Bael negated the question.

"I was to inform you your parents visited."

Bael sighed.

"Did they say something? No disowning? Inheritance perhaps? I'm not cast out of the family already?"

Albus Dumbledore chuckled.

"I'm sure, had they known the truth, something along those lines might have happened. As it turns out, I gave them the rumor mill. You are one very mischievous student."

"Wait … you mean to tell me … they _don't know._ "

The professor hummed.

"I gathered some sensitive informations were best not revealed."

Bael heaved a sigh. He was actually saved. Until the Dark Lord comes back.

"That was very thoughtful. Thank you."

Bael heard the headmaster leaving.

"No matter what happens, know that my door is always opened for your tales.", the steps stopped, "Oh, and Tom does not know either."

 _Who's Tom? Somehow, I know I should know._

"Goodbye Headmaster."

The door thumped. That was … heart wrenching. To know even the Headmaster knew of his estranged relationship with his family members …

 _I'm so dead. The Dark Lord won't forgive me. Ever. I'd better make some plans. So, France is an idea. I know some nice people who could help me. Perhaps India too. It's colorful. I like colors._

* * *

A few days later, Bael finaly saw his friend on the corner of a corridor.

"Bael!" shouted Ron and Neville, "Where were you?"

Hermione came too, "Yeah, were you avoiding us? I swear the Slytherins saw more of you in a day than we have in a week …"

Bael gulped. That was actually the truth. Both of these statements. Or so Pansy Parkinson kept on telling him too, between two spells and insults.

"Hey guys … anyone seen or heard of the exams?" Urged the metamorphmagus, trying to avoid the bullet.

Hermione's eyes clouded. And she went in a spiel about what was needed.

 _Spell dodged._

Amongst the other highlights of the end of the year – that is to say the ever growing hate between Snape and Bael, McGonagall's tears of frustration and joy in front of the empty Gryffindor and Slytherin Hourglasses and some infighting pranks in the Gryffindor tower – the small band of Gryffindor spent their last weeks working on their lessons. The upcoming exams were having their toll on the nerves of the small student.

"Baaaeeel! Couldn't you play something to soothe my nerves?" playfully asked Ron in the middle of the common room. Ever since he had learnt his best friend could play the piano, he had bugged him to do it again. Because, the drooling Fluffy was forever embed into Bael's memory, he had never indulged.

"What? You can play?"

The shrill voices of some fourth year girls hunted the poor boy till the end of the term.

"Ron, why?" had asked Neville at his smirking friend.

"That, is called revenge. You don't frolick with other common rooms!"

"Let it go Nev'" said Hermione, "Somehow, Ron is convinced Bael has entered all the other common rooms without him. He's been mad for a few days."

Neville shrugged it off as the weird relationship Ron and Bael shared. He could not see for the life of him, how exiting visiting common rooms could be. There were as bland as they could be. That and he would like not to infer the teacher's ire once more. Already, McGonagall was looking at them through clenched eyes and Neville had sworn he had seen some lightning out of her nose. She had almost snarled had said Fred or George when Neville had come back to their common rooms. The Sorcerer's stone visibly still a sour subject.

* * *

"Guys! The results are out!" cried out one evening before the farewell ceremony Hermione. The three boys were chilling in the common room (Bael in a hammock of sorts, Ron sprawled out on the rug, Neville sprawled on a sofa).

"Come on, let's see." Said the girl happily while returning the hammock. Bael fell like rock. "It will teach you to suspend yourself." Said the smug girl at Bael's face.

"I swear I only know violent people around here." Muttered the metamorphmagus playfully.

He had no time to rant more thanks to Hermione's hand. She had wafted her way through the crowd of Gryffindor to look at the small paper announcing the results.

"Well, Ron. See, you're not the last one at all!" cheered Neville for his panicking friend, "See, you're the 26th on 45 people. That's like awesome."

Ron's grin was worth some serious glasses.

"Yes! Mom won't chew me out! I'm higher than Fred and George were. Hey, guys look at that, Crabbe and Goyle are the last ones … they actually passed. I really thought they would drown or something."

"Well, dumb here and dumber there," pointed Bael at the two Slytherin names, "had some tutoring before the exams."

Ron still smiled.

"They're still the last ones. Wait, do you have surnames for everybody in the Slytherin dorm?"

"Yes." Simply said Bael, "And they know it too. I trained them well enough that they answer at their given name."

"You bribed them, didn't you?"

Neville rolled his eyes. Really, now. What would he do with these names anyways.

"Hey, Nev', you made it too?" casually asked Ron. Neville nodded.

"Yeah. I'm just behind you. 27th."

"Oh, that's great guys!" the ecstatic voice of their girl friend ringed their ears.

"You did well too?" Neville wondered sarcastically.

"Yes! I'm the first!"

"There is no wonder in that." Muttered darkly Bael. "I made second. Only because Snape hated me more than Hermione I say. That is so unfair."

Neville outright laughed. He had won his bet against Ron.

"And here goes 2 galleons. Do feel free to bet again with me." Boasted Neville to Ron.

Ron groaned but obliged. He glared at Bael fiercely, who himself was glaring at the paper notice. In the end, he left the common room with Ron. They had apologized to go eat. Neville chose to stay and celebrate with Hermione. He was not short of a miracle too. He had struggled the whole year to keep his scores above average. And when compared to Hermione and Bael, he seemed so … bad at magic.

The two happy Gryffindor finally joined the other too at the Great Hall for the farewell ceremony. They caught the two mini pranksters on the middle of the table, both focused on a letter Bael held between his hands.

"Hey guys, why the long face?" wondered Neville, sitting in front of Bael. He did not want to witness Ron's mess when eating. As terrible as it sounded, Bael was barely better than Ron. And he was from a psychorigid family he said … ah, joke's on them. He probably must scare people with his eating habits.

"My mother sent a letter." Answered Bael. "It was not trapped."

Neville and Hermione cocked an eyebrow. That was rare.

"She said the Malfoys would pick me up. And to dress accordingly. I think there is a feast or something tomorrow night at the Yaxleys. Not sure though. It might be that. I certainly hope Granny won't be there."

"Why don't your parents do it?"

Bael shrugged.

"I've always been a burden apparently" quoting the words from the letter in his hands with a bitter sound. "I think Dad and uncle Rab will be drunk in a faraway pub and Mom is just busy with the estates. Her aunt died and left lots of things. Guess who got the inheritance thingy?" smiled Bael half-heartedly, burning the rest of the letter.

"You have the same handwriting." Off handedly said Neville, comparing in his head the letters to change the conversation. That went ... awkwardly.

"Yeah … well, Mom did teach me how to write so …"

"You ask some weird questions mate." Finished Ron, not at all interested. The awkward reaction was also to be taken in account.

Soon, the buzzing sound of exited students filled the great Hall. Many hundreds came in, seating each at their assigned table. Very soon, the Castle decorated the Hall with the flags and colors of the Ravenclaw House.

"Well, 5 galleons that's not gonna stay like that." Said with a small smile Bael.

"What did you plan again?" asked Hermione, totally at ease. "It's our last dinner, and you still plan to do something stupid, don't you?"

"I like to think of it as honoring the weaklings."

Hermione huffed.

"Whatever. Impersonating students of other houses is hardly honorable."

"exactly." Said Bael, "I plan to right my wrongs."

Ron and Neville snorted.

"Dude, there is like hundreds of things wrong with you. It would take years before anything could be righted."

"So little faith in me …"

Eventually Dean and Seamus barged into the conversation, and all the Gryffindor boys tried to bully the metamorphmagus into admitting what he had behind his head.

"Right … I might have slipped some words to the Headmaster about the last pranks that made Slytherin and Hufflepuff lose so many points."

"Wait … They lost three days ago 350 points each. I can't remember why though … something to do with brooms and closets. I did not get it entirely." Murmured Dean. "If they were to gain it again – they can't take more points from us anyways – it would mean …"

"Hufflepuff would win, yeah."

Seamus heaved a sigh.

"You scared me … here I thought you gave enough points to Slytherin for them to win _again_ the House Cup."

"I'm not so awful guys …"

The glare he received made the boy gulp. His friends definitely had such a poor esteem of him. He almost felt like crying when he realized the trust-levels to be the as high as his cousins.

The ceremony went exactly as Bael had said. Even if the points gained by Hufflepuff were not explained thoroughly, the sour mood of the Ravenclaws was enough to cheer the other houses. After all, they had been so obnoxious about being the best and smartest bunch this year … The ending was spectacular, a true feast for kings deigned Bael when looking at the lemon pie full of meringue. The small hearts dancing behind his eyes had been a dead give-away of his non-objective thoughts, what with his stupid infatuation with the dessert thought Neville.

* * *

"So, what are you gonna do this summer?" merrily asked one Baelfyre.

He was sitting in one of the Hogwarts compartment, with Ron, Neville and Hermione. Besides the school dresses he usually wore, he was smartly dressed, his unusual face – the actual true one he had told his friends when they had blinked twice at his appearance, because yes he was taller than them, he was 14 and not 12 and yes he had dark curls and no straight hairs, and yes, his eyes were grey – passively looking at landscape. He smoothed the black tuxedo he wore and took an expensive looking blue jacket with a manic grin. The floating bow tie still unfastened around his neck.

Ron looked at him with clear distaste in his eyes – tuxedo, he could support, bow ties, absolutely no.

"Dunno." He answered. "I might skillfully convince my mother to invite you over the summer, but honestly mate, I think with you, it's a lost fight."

Bael shrugged.

"Don't worry about me, bro. I've got my summer all planned already. And potentially as far as physically possible from the magical side of the family."

Neville snorted.

"As if you had any non magical relatives. The Blacks and Lestranges are amongst the worst kind of pureblood fanatics you'll ever meet."

Bael laughed. It sounded a bit stressed.

"Right. But that also means, we have so much more secrets than should be acceptable. Every pureblood holds a deep little dirty secret."

Ron and Neville snorted again.

"yeah, right. Try to make us believe that. The only secret you have are the dark artifacts laying down on every corner. And those not so secretive saber-tooth tigers."

"Hey! Don't diss them! They're magical beasts, can eat you in the blink of an eye if you're not nice with them ... Uncle Lucius offered them to me when I was a kid. Said it was to keep his peacocks to himself. Haha, and Mom almost strangled him when she saw the baby teeth."

"Your uncle? Malfoy's dad? Waouh, dude, I forgot how weird your family is."

Bael rolled his eyes.

"It's not weird. We just have a big family."

Neville snorted. Again.

"If I remember right, and I know I do, your great-aunt by alliances was also your first degree cousin. How wrong is that?"

"Touché." He inclined his head, "You Hermione? Any plans for the holydays?" Sulked the metamorphmagus - he did not like to be reminded of the incests in his family. He aptly chose not to point out the Longbottoms horrid genetic story either, lest he began some pointless fight over blood.

The young witch answered with a slight excitement.

"Yes. My parents are going to France this summer. Just the first two weeks. I'll send you some things boys. There are so many things to visit. And did you know the Louis XVI Castle was a magical entity too?"

From this moment onwards, none of the boys bothered to follow their friend. There was no stopping her anymore.

"I'm going to stay with my Grandmother, I think. Dad will be busy with his Auror duties. Mom will stop a bit for the summer but they say they can't stop both at the same time. We'll see." Remarked Neville. "I'll be sure to send some letters to you too."

"Yeah … about that. You might want not to do this if you want your owl to still be alive."

Bael's awkward voice rang through the compartment. He explained.

"See, some wards can be pretty intense at the Manors …"

Ron roared.

"I thought you were staying far from them."

"Some things are unavoidable." Darkly answered Bael.

"Are you … pouting?" finally wondered Hermione after a moment of silence. He huffed.

The rest of the train ride was spent in some laugher and remembrance of the past year. Mostly, it was about the numerous tales of pranks Ron had done with Bael. The sheer number and stupidity of them astounded the two friends who had wisely chose not to embark in their pranks. Because, who would try to swat the places of the potion ingredients store Snape had. That also explained the sour look of the professor when he was seen scouring the whole Castle for the missing rare and dangerous ingredients, most of them misplaced had said Ron.

"See you in a few mate." Shouted Ron before Bael could move an inch. He was gone fast, Neville and Hermione on his toes. The train was already stopping at the station.

"They… left without me!" a scandalized look on his face, Bael stood up, "And they locked the compartment door … those little monsters …"

A very dignified Bael, who could not open nor destroy the door lock, opened the window.

"I'm so taking revenge for that."

He slowly left the train, and landed on the wrong side of the dock. Trying hard not to sully his attire – he was dressed for a party after all – he made the long detour to the dock. Humming an old song ("Every Sunday is getting more bleak, a fresh poison each week" , a song he had favored to piss off his parents) he padded his way through the crowd, already focusing on finding his aunt.

* * *

"Perhaps, we should have left the door opened …" reasonned Hermione with her two friends. They grinned.

"You know him … he will find a way to get out. And honestly, it was for the common room thing. He locked it from the outside …" explained Neville, almost running to his parents when he saw them. Granted, still in Auror robes, but there nonetheless. His two friends followed him and waved to Neville's parents. They left in a hurry, not without smiling politely and promises to let Neville visit during the summer.

"Well, 'Mione. Help me find my family?" gently asked Ron looking around him.

"they're over there. See the red heads all crowded at the same place."

"Not fair … Did you see your parents?"

Hermione waved her head.

"Yes! Come and meet them! Nev' is already gone and I don't think Bael would meet them with his family around."

Ron followed her.

"Dad! Mom! Over there!" shouted Hermione to her parents. The two muggles looked positively out of place. Their faces were still in wonder of the magical prowess some adults showed on the dock. They turned rapidly their heads to their daughter and some relief could be seen wafting through all their emotions.

"Sweatheart." Acknowledged Hermione's father. "Who is your friend?"

Hermione introduced Ron to the family. He was as much in awed of muggles as the muggles were of wizards. Or perhaps he was only intimidated by the look Mr Granger was giving him ("Oh really? Is it the same boy who is always pranking people?", Ron had the decency to look troubled). Again, fast promises to visit during the summer were exchanged. Ron saw Hermione leave and hurriedly joined his parents before they could suspect any trouble. He would already get an earring for all the trouble he had caused at Hogwarts (almost as much as Fred and George, the impressed letter of his father had said). Far on the side, he had seen the Malfoys glaring at some student, waiting for Bael realized Ron when he did not see him anywhere near the three wizards. He turned his head again and saw his family. On the beginning of the train, Ron also saw Bael, waving at him and grinning at the Tonkses.

 _Now, I knew they knew each other_ thought Ron when he saw the small smile of Andromeda Tonks whom he had met briefly on Christmas Eve.

"Ron!"

His sister cry made the young boy dart his head down. He smiled. Here was his family.

"Sirius?" pondered aloud Ron when he saw the Auror next to his father. The bone crushing hug of his mother came next.

"Oh, hey pup. I'm supposed to be on duty guard. At the station … so, yeah."

He left it at that and continued his hushed talk with Arthur Weasley. Fred and George answered his mute question.

"Sirius was talking to James a bit earlier about the Lestranges. Apparently, it is Sirius's duty to watch over Bael. We think he is trying to relegate his duties."

Ron ahed. He did not get it at all. But he would make it look as if.

"Weasleys!" shouted Arthur Weasley with a beaming smile, "We are all gathered now, we can go back home! To the Burrow!" came the over-joyous voice of the man. The small troupe left in a pompous disorder the station, laughing merrily with the Hogwart tales.

* * *

 **Alright, I hope it was not too rushed ;)**

 **Hopefully, next chapter will come next saturday, so stay tuned!**

 **Also, leave a review, a follow or favorite ^^**

 **See you!**


	13. For a good summer

**Hey guys!**

 **Here we go for another chapter. It's just a filler really, and I'm going to lie to you guys, I think the second year is the blendest one. So don't expect much. I hope to finish it real quick, because third year won't be anything like canon. I've already got many ideas.**

 **Anyway, j** **ust read and review :D**

* * *

 _Chapter 13: For a good summer ..._

The summer of 1992 was particularly hot. Such heat had not been seen in decades. Or at least, that's what one Baelfyre Black thought as he left in a Side-along apparition with his aunt to the Yaxleys party. As always, Bael could not care less for the glares of his cousin and the barbed words he could send his way. He wielded words like nobody else could, convinced himself Bael. Words were his first weapon. He distinctly remembers and knows each button, which to push to send people in a fit rage. He certainly had experimented enough on his own parents to know it. His aunt was no stranger to these words either. Perhaps, that was why she had gripped his arm tightly when Draco had begun his monologue.

The metamorphmagus had schooled his features not to let anything loose. The grip on his arm had lost its strength, but he was sure his aunt was watching him like a hawk. Ever since Christmas, the two had not exchanged a single word. At the station, he had just come, no words to explain why he was so late, and Apparated away with his aunt while Draco and Lucius did the same. It was not refined, but it certainly did the deed. The cold tension still could be felt from miles away. A pang of remorse did course through him as he thought his aunt had nothing to do with his quarrels with his parents.

In front of him, gone was the station. Only a beautiful path – he could recognize the genius of the gardener – leading to a nice mansion. It lacked the regal like atmosphere of Castle Greengrass and the pompous tone of Malfoy Manor, but it had some sinister waves echoing from the mansion, not unlike Lestrange Manor. That atmosphere put him at ease. After all, he had grown up feeling the differences in that shady aura and how and when it could be threatening, it almost felt like home.

 _Am I really missing home so much?_

A nostalgic thought here to ignore the buzzing sound of his cousin, and Bael followed right after his uncle on the small path. At the end of it, an extravagant buffet was floating, inviting wizards inside.

"Ah, Lucius, Narcissa. A pleasure."

Yaxley Senior was at the door of his mansion. Thin, with a beard too fake to be true, he was receiving the guests with a lot of unnecessary movements thought Bael as he watched the numerous house elves working to bring drinks.

"And young Draco, I believe." Continued the pompous man after a greeting to the two adults. "How was your Hogwarts year?"

Draco began to rant, careful not to say anything about his cousin. Bael indulged in a knowing smile.

 _Even after all this time, you're simply incapable of depreciating me in front of strangers … huh, as mom says, family first._

Nonetheless, Bael was irked. The man, Yaxley Senior, aptly ignored him. If Bael was hurt by this gesture – was it because he had been sorted in Gryffindor? Or because he was an ingrateful brat to any Pureblood he met ... – he did not show it. Instead, he tried to turn the table's sides. They were all going to ignore him. Fine. He would make as much ruckus as needed to prove them they just could not do so. Lay low and strike then.

"Black Dragoon." Ordered Bael at one of the House elf, fully aware everyone could hear him. The small creature opened his eyes wildly but did not refute his order. He had been ordered to listen to the hosts after all. Bael crossed his aunt's eyes and he saw the distinct amusement behind her grey eyes while he was waiting for the house elf to serve him. The same his mother had, idly pondered Bael. The same he had too. He did not leave her stare and cheered with his drink in hand once he was served. She did not reciprocated the gesture.

 _Rude._

Bael snorted. Well, he had ordered the strongest magical beverage he knew. No wonder his aunt was sceptical at him. he doubted she knew the beverage he could drink ... He was not of age yet, but she ought to know better than that, had thought Bael. Black Dragoon was the name of a particularly strong cocktail. It was a mix of Firewhiskey and the tear of the Black dragon. Hence the name. The tear was prepared with caution and some secret technique Bael did not know, but it made the tear move in his drink, creating small waves _._ He drank it whole in one shot. His throat burnt like never before, but as a good pureblood, he did not show his weakness. He merely smirked at the two wizards who saw him finish the drink in one go before leaving.

He would not bother with pleasantries tonight. He heard far away his mother's disapproval – she had just come in and he had planned to avoid her tonight as much as possible -, talking with his aunt about his education. Or more exactly, his aunt's terrific words and his mother's sarcastic reply. Oh well. He still was not on talking terms with them. No need to greet her then. That, and he still perfectly remembered the scathing letter his mother had sent him. It had hit a bit too close to home for his liking. Perhaps he should not have been so crude with her on Christmas ... He was deeply aware he had said hurtful things. He knew that. And in their huge pride, none of them could and would ever take these words back.

So Bael left the party and went upstairs.

There, a piano was waiting for him it seemed. Suddenly, the tune he was singing before at the train station came back to his mind. Yes. Let's do some practice.

Bael took a sit, the piano's stool was soft. The keys were in perfect condition too. Slowly, he reached for the soft tune. His hoarse voice perfectly in tune, if he wanted to. He knew these lyrics by heart. Would he sing them? For an ungrateful band of wizard he hated? No, no. He would not. Bael stood up, ordering yet another drink, just as spiked as the other one. He had something else in mind.

"Young Lestrange.", an unknown voice greeted him, surprising the metamorphmagus. He has not heard a single step. Nor seen it. _A silencio cast on the feet .._. Bael obliged and turned on his heels to face the newcomer. No need to rile up people he did not know.

"Ms Yaxley, a pleasure." Gathered Bael from the rings on the witch's hands, sporting the arms of coat of her family. With a formal greeting, the brushing of the knuckles, Bael leaned. "You may call me Xerxès, of course."

She did not give her first name back. Ah well. What had he done this time? From the glare, Bael realized she was not crossed with him.

"You ought to drink at a later time. Your family has arrived." she replied in a haughty manner.

Bael shuddered inside. Family? Weird way to say his parents. Turning slightly his head, Bael saw the reason why. His grandmother was there too, with her infamous cane, her husband long dead. Something to do with chasing a muggle remembered Bael. His mother had been stricken with grief for a whole two days. His aunt had stayed home a week. The rest was blurry for Bael. He looked back at his grandmother.

 _At least she's my last grandparent standing. Dad's drowned._

At barely 54, the old witch did not need any cane to walk. Bael entertained the thought she kept it only to hit him at more unexpected times. With a brisk thanks to the witch who thought it would be a good idea to tell him some people he shared blood with had finally come, Bael ascended even more the stairs. Ms Yaxley was already gone, ready to mingle with some other pureblood witch to gossip about his rude attitude.

But Bael did not care. The young metamorphmagus ended up a story higher, overlooking all the wizards talking. Nobody was there either. Perfect for him. Nobody would think to lift his head and go looking for him.

From his spot, he saw his cousin laughing merrily with some of his year-mates and other Slytherins he did not know, school robes still on. Was he the only Hogwarts students who had deigned to dress up nicely here? Apart from the girls dressed in nice dresses for the most part, Bael felt oddly out of place. He sighed. The huge clock on the wall in front of him told him it was way too soon to leave the party too. Fortunately, Bael had planned accordingly. The young boy took out his wand and transfigured his glass into a nice chair and conjured a desk. There, he took out some parchment and a quill. He had homework to do.

 _How sad am I? I'm sure even Hermione has not begun yet …_

Well no time like the present had said once Ron. Time to get going on. Just before plunging head first in his pile of homework, the boy ordered another drink. Some apple juice this time. The alcohol was not his favorite. And it was beginning to hit his brain. Hard. Dragoon tended to be addictive with time too. He did not need more health trouble now.

 _So, I've got a few hours._

Bael did spend most of this time playing with his quill rather than writing. Even if he finished his potion essay and astronomy map, he was utterly bored. Midnight read the grandfather clock on the other wall. And the wizards inside were still talking. The never diminishing talking told Bael the party was _far_ from over. And now he was hungry.

 _Well, I guess I will have to get down eventually. The house elves don't take anything from the buffet._

With a resigned sigh, Bael left his nice spot as cleaned as he had come across. Down the stairs, he was suddenly almost plundered into a wall by a door.

"What is wrong with you?" groaned Bael, still holding the door for fear of an encore.

A witch, a couple of years older than him, came out. She sniffed. Her eyes were red, lips swollen.

 _Dragonmoore_ Bael's mind supplied unwillingly. That witch was taking some serious doses of illicit potions here … Bael smirked.

"Ashworth, right?"

The witch barely reacted and almost tumbled down. As sour as his mood was, Bael could not let her go down so easily. He helped the witch back on her feet. Unfortunately, they were interrupted.

"well, would you look at that. And here I thought you were being an ungrateful brat, sulking somewhere."

The charming voice of Bael's mother was heard. The young witch became redder, babbled some excuses and left in a hurry. Bael gritted his teeth when he saw her almost falling down the stairs.

 _That Ashworth girl is so clumsy._

"What do you want mom?" mumbled Bael as he took the stair too to reach the buffet, his mother following him.

"I won that bet with Cissy. She said you were too young." His mother cackled madly, "and mother dearest who thought you were gone with some man …"

Bael was positively embarrassed now. _Wait a moment … I am not gay!_

"That did not happen like that." He tried to say, but the knowing smile of his mother cut him.

"I'm going to smooth down the others then, do try to sound convincing with whatever lie you'll come up with to cover your disappearance." Bellatrix Lestrange said still smiling.

She left a mortified Bael in the middle of the stairs.

 _I … that did not just happen. And Mom is so not supposed to react like that …_

With an opened mouth, Bael followed his mother through the crowd with his eyes. Still in disbelief, he saw her go to her sister where some coins were exchanged. The rush of some scandalous story to tell colored his family's eyes.

 _I am doomed now. Rab won't let it go. Ever._

Bael actually pondered a moment whether to starve upstairs with his dignity intact or get down and face the humiliating questioning stares of his family. He was pissed now.

 _They set me up, these little snakes …_

Bael frowned. He hated being controlled. Lifting his head as high as he could, he went down the stairs straight to the buffet. Still mad, he dodged everybody. Unfortunately, he came tumbling down upon Parkinson.

"Pugginson, what do you want?" grunted Bael as he took some appetizer on a plate. The said girl shrugged.

"I wanted to spend some time with you."

Bael looked at her, a smile stretching his face.

"Why this sad lie? Who did you anger? And who do you need me to deter?" he asked forcing himself to be relaxed.

Pansy Parkinson, who was in a plumped dress any self-respecting witch should not wear thought distractedly Bael, flushed.

"You're drunk." Stated the metamorphmagus blank-faced.

"if you're with me, it will be ok. You're always the bad influence."

Bael ticked but did not retaliate. He was tired. If Pugginson wanted to get drunk, let her be. He would not be held responsible.

"Do try the black Dragoon." Mused aloud Bael with a smirk. He handed her the drink after her widening eyes. "Truly, you haven't lived yet if you haven't drunk it."

The bait was so pitiful, even Bael did not believe the witch would fall for it. She went in head first though. With a cough, Bael quickly left like a thief. He was caught leaving by his uncle though, not stealthy enough to dig an exit.

"Oh, uncle Rabastan. Here you are, I did not see you" apologized Bael with his perfect angelic face. His uncle, Rabastan, was completely drunk too, if the red nose and cheeks were anything to go by. He was dancing out of rhythm on the soft music displayed.

"Xerxès! My favorite nephew! You're a man now! Come, I have many things to tell you about your father!", the older wizard padded his way too close to Bael. "See that blonde over there. It's Rolanda Maërkins, née Fawley. She was your father's sweetheart. And back when he was in fourth year, he tried to attract her attention. Eventually, Bella got mad because they were betrothed already."

Bael was positively bored by these revelations. He knew them by heart. But, now that his uncle was blaberring, he could extort some useful information. He had always had a small penchant for gossip, and that was some serious story there. A gold mine, a much needed resource for the next time he would need some blackmailing files.

"Did Mom get jealous?"

Rabastan waved widly.

"Ah! As if! Bella was completely enticed in Aries, her metamorphmagus friend. The dude was nice too." He mused, stopping his mad and weird dancing moves.

"What?! Mom had a crush on somebody else before?" Bael grimaced but did not rectify his sentence. He knew his mom did not particularly love his father. "And she knew a metamorphmagus?!"

"Haha, yes! But he was betrothed to Andromeda. That punk even punched Cygnus once! He was the talk of the Castle …"

"… he punched Mom's dad." Repeated Bael in equal part shocked and happy to hear of some crazy defying pureblood – he could only be a pureblood if his mother had liked that guy.

Rabastan barked several times, clearly reminiscing old times.

"I swear he made the word drama go to a whole new level. But back on track, Rod tried to make your mother jealous when he realized she reacted poorly to Rolanda, but Bella did not care all that much about him. Just about her reputation. Bella was very prideful, so when she saw Rod asking Rolanda out in the Slytherin common room, she literally stormed over Aries and left with him. Let me tell you, they had a very serious affair in the corridors."

Bael swallowed hard, the details unexpected and unwelcomed. This image would haunt his dreams for the next few nights.

"And then Andromeda got terrifyingly mad against both Aries and Bella. For the next months there was a mini civil war inside the dorm. Each one supporting either Bella, Andromeda or Aries."

Bael stared at his uncle as he recounted the battle that ensued between the two sisters of the time. And to add fuel to the fire, apparently Narcissa had chosen Aries's side instead of her sister's.

"She's always been the shrewdest." Muttered darkly Rabastan, "Dear Narcissa viewed Aries as a brother of sorts …"

A few minutes later, but what felt like hours for Bael – he had learnt so many scandalous things about his mother -, he was led to his family small gathering. On a corner, the full family was talking – or sneering, depending on who you were looking at. Even Draco had joined the little get-together, although he seemed to be fast dozing off, if his posture was anything to go by. Slumped against a wall, he was barely paying attention to the people around him. Bael approached, holding his uncle for fear he would stay on the floor. At his surprise, none piped up when he came. When he had expected some sort of diatribe by his grandmother (the angry glare she was sending his way was perhaps a warning for him to start speaking, greeting and apologizing for his sudden disappearance) and he received none, Bael let himself relax next to the person who talk to him the less. That is to say, his dear uncle Lucius. For years, the two had had a strained relationship. Ever since Bael had a bout of accidental magic and shaved his head, more exactly. Lucius had claimed it to be a deliberate act - which was in part true. Bael had wanted his uncle to sport some blue and short spiky hair. Somehow, he had ended up bald. Narcissa had waved it off and regrew his hair, but the feeling between Bael and Lucius had been bordering on hate since then - more going on mutual indifference now. The petty squabbles between Draco and him did not help the matter either.

"We'll soon come back." Had said his mother in his ear when Bael had yawned. Draco had been dozing off for a while now, "Do apologize to Cissy first."

The firm tone was non-disputable. Bael groaned, his lids heavy.

"Can't I do that tomorrow, I'm tired?"

"No. You've been holding off since Christmas. And you could have done so at the station. Your problem there." Answered swiftly his mother.

Bael cursed under his breath some very colorful words. His mother had heard and had threatened him discreetly with her wand. Gulping, Bael had executed himself. At least, his mother didn't care much for his tantrums. Cissy though ... she held grudges.

"Aunt Cissy, could we … talk somewhere else?" Bael asked, shy of the answer. He had already withdrawn a little bit of the family circle to reach his aunt. But Narcissa had complied and showed him some corner with her shin. Stopping his eye roll at the typical act, Bael followed her. A drink – was that a fury Mangoose? A strong liquor too … - in her hand, she appraised him with her icy eyes.

"I'm sorry."

These very words scorched Bael's throat. And to add insult to injury, the witch in front of him did not moved an inch.

"For the fireplace and peacocks." Continued in an awkward voice the metamorphmagus.

Narcissa sniffed.

"Please, you don't think I'm mad with you for that. Get to the point quickly." She snapped.

Bael huffed.

"Fine. I won't bring it up again. It's not like we know them …"

"No Xerxès. We don't, and it's better that way. Squibs are not like us.", Narcissa was seething. She spoke barely louder than a whisper, her clenched teeth hampering her from talking louder, but the anger was there. "I don't care what you do in your spare time. You're big enough to take care of yourself." The witch took a time to breathe, assessing him quickly, "Mostly. Anyway, if I ever learn you spent some time to see them, I can guarantee your untimely disownment."

Bael stilled. His aunt was serious there. She never made idle threats like these.

"Don't make this face. You know it too. These are laws from the middle ages. Each Pureblood must uphold these rules in order for us to live peacefully."

"But we're not in the dark ages anymore." Countered Bael, "We don't even know why we follow these forsaken rules! We forgot all but the punishment. How unfair is that." He whined.

"Some things are better left alone." Replied with honesty Narcissa. But Bael refused that answer. He clenched his hands hard, almost drawing blood.

"How can you say that! They're you're family!"

Bael stopped. His aunt frigid eyes and burning wand was pointed at his heart. Nestled on his right side due to some disease that displaced the organs, only her and his mother knew the truth. She was deathly serious. More so than he had ever seen her.

"Don't say it. They never were my family to begin with. Neither are they yours. Forget them Xerxès."

For a split second, they faced each other, both unrelenting to bow down.

"Fine" spat Bael, "I won't ever say it. It's not like I ever met them."

The tension was released immediately. His aunt's eyes were less stressed now.

"Xer," she called his nickname, from his childhood, "it's for our sake. These rules, laws. They are here to protect us in case of danger. Listen to me, I know you're lying when you say you haven't met them. But please, for your sake and ours, don't meet them ever again. They mean bad news." She whispered lightly, shuffling his hair with her left hand, an old kind gesture. "Come, Bella made your favorite dessert back home."

Bael cocked an eyebrow. If this was not an effective way to change conversation, he did not know what it was. But his interest was picked. His mother rarely cooked – or ordered the house elves – for him. It usually was up to him to demand his food.

"Fine. Let's go."

A tentative smile spread on her face.

"Wait," Bael called back, "is it poisoned?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes.

"I know you seem to find everything suspicious, but even she would not stoop so low as to poison you through a cake."

Bael shrugged.

"What's the cake for anyway?"

"You'll see." Smiled his aunt. Reluctantly, Bael followed after her. "That's better. Now, do tell me what is that story I hear about Baliara and you."

Bael blinked.

"Who?"

Narcissa narrowed her eyes.

"Ashworth. Baliara Ashworth." She said casually, "Don't you dare tell me you've slept with her and never asked for her name."

Bael knew he was as red as Ron's hair right now.

"I did not sleep with Ashworth!" stammered Bael with his most ferocious glare. It probably failed (his mother had laughed at him once, saying he had been as threatening as a five year old – something to do with his cheek's swelling whenever he was angry), but he persisted. He was not about to go down without fighting. His family was so judgmental …

"You did not ask her name." simply repeated his aunt, still shocked from this revelation. "He did not ask her name." she continued, ignoring Bael completely, "Wait for Bella to hear that."

Bael stopped.

"Wait … you would not tell mom, right? It's not even true!"

One of Bael's deepest fears had been his mother's ire. It was a guaranteed fight if she were to learn some disastrous story like that – how could her perfect son not ask for a name?! The insult! she had lashed out at him once because he had left home without a tie on! Even if the story was completely made up, Bael knew for a fact he would be having an awful evening.

"Name your price." Begged Bael, holding his aunt's arm. The latter smiled smugly.

"Well, since that disastrous Christmas party, I did not get my gift …"

"Fine, I'll give you two new presents. There. Deal. Just … don't say a word to mom." Groaned Bael.

"Tell me what, exactly?" came the unexpected voice of one Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Ah, Mom, you are there."

"Bella." Simply greeted Narcissa.

Bellatrix looked at the two of them suspiciously.

"Good, you made up. Now let's hurry, your son is throwing up all over the place. Turns out he was not the only one to drink some black dragoon." Finished Bella, swatting her son's head, scolding him with a small glare, "Alcohol is not for under-aged brat. Do you understand?"

Bael held up his hands.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I ate enough before to sustain it correctly. And I'm almost 15."

"Move. I don't care. Repeat that again and I will bash your head against the bathroom wall."

"You were 13 when you first began." retorted Bael hurt.

"And since when I am an example to follow?", an heavy silenced weighed down on the three persons, "Right, that's what I thought. We'll talk about it in length at a later date. And I'll have you known, I haven't been drinking tonight. At all."

"Poor you. I bet it must have been excruciating not to."

"You have no idea, son … you lack the maturity to understand it at all anyway. You don't know what kind of sweet drinks you've missed." Bellatrix muttered darkly as she shoved some unknown witch out of her path.

"Drunkard." Dutifully replied Bael, the banter between his mother and him only beginning.

Bael's mood darkened significantly at the glare of his mother. She was not in the joking games tonight. _And here I thought the cake was a peace offering … How vain am I to be cowed by some promess of food?_

"I dare think you need a pep talk about some things, son. After that Ashworth accident … "

Narcissa sniffed.

"Bella, you've had the talk with him?"

Bael paled but did not say a thing. A mere pursing of the lips told the two woman of the embarrassment he was now subjected to.

"Not yet." Hummed his mother, "I will have Rodolphus do it once we're home."

Bael felt a small part of him dying. Literally. He hated talks about maturity. And his father made it so awkward. At least Ted Tonks had been funny. _Wait no. That too, had been embarrassing._

These were probably the most hypocrites speeches he could ever get from his parents. Nonetheless, he followed his mother out of the room, his aunt on his heels. They came right on the view of one Draco throwing up some black bile on his father's shoes. And dear Lucius Malfoy looked less than thrilled, going from the slight twitch in his hand.

"Oh dear …" muttered Narcissa, passing the mother-son duo laughing at the expense of Draco.

The Malfoys hurried out, with a sick Draco, a livid Lucius and an embarrassed Narcissa. Following them were the Lestranges, with Bael's father holding Rabastan and then dear Druella Black – the old witch berating her daughters for the irresponsible manners of their sons.

Leaving the Yaxleys estate was not complicated. Only overly too long. They were about a dozen of traditions to uphold before leaving a traditional party like this one. Like, for one, greeting farewell to the whole family hosting the event. And the Yaxleys were easily rounding up to 50 people counted Bael with a sigh, after another bow here, a kissing the knuckles there.

In the end, it took a good hour to leave. But as the Malfoys were going outside to Apparate away, the Lestranges went to the Chimney room.

"Why aren't we apparating to the manor?" muttered Bael, eying the floo powder with distaste. He could never land right on his feet. And usually, his father would scowl at his uneven landing.

"Don't be daft. No one is in condition to Apparate home" barked his father, pressed for some reason.

"Good evening too, father." Mumbled under his breath Bael, speaking for the first time of the night to his father.

"Stop being over dramatic and help me with Rab."

Bael complied.

"Mom said she did not drink." Mused the metamorphmagus

"So? It's normal."

Bael pushed Rabastan in the Chimney and took the powder in his hands.

"What? No. She drinks all the time with Cissy. And, admittedly, if hypothetically she did not drink anything, she can Apparate us home. Why not take the side along apparition with her then?"

His father stopped his movements. Then, he laughed.

"She did not tell you!"

"Tell me what?" eagerly asked Bael, a peak of curiosity coursing his brains.

"Bella!" barked Rodolphus.

Bellatrix glared at him.

"Everyone was busy tonight." She explained, waiting for the fire to flare back to its original color after Rabatan's leave. Rodolphus snorted.

"Right. Ashworth."

Bael groaned. He did not do anything with that damned witch. Now, even his father believed he had had an affair. Was there a wizard in the whole family who did not know that?

"Whatever. Tell me now." Urged Bael with a childish grin

"Well, see Xer …"

Bael narrowed his eyes. His mother rarely called him that way. It used to be a childhood's thing.

"You're about to be a big brother."

Bael blinked twice. The first time, he was shocked. The second time, realization dawned on him.

"You're replacing me."

They frowned and then averted their eyes.

"Of course not!" muttered his father, eyebrows going dangerously high in his airline, "You might have been sorted in Gryffindor to spite us, but it's not nearly enough to _replace you_." he stiffled, "What idiocy is going through your head again?!" he slapped gently Bael's head. "let's go before you decide to do something stupid." he muttered, gesturing to bella to come forth. "With your health _condition ..."_

Bael was fuming, shifting his mood between disbelief and denial – they could have told him they simply wanted another child, even if he would have called bullshit a miles away.

"Oh, so we're having this conversation now. You, who have sent me a dozen of letters about how a house did not matter, or how great it was to have a _spy_ in the Gryffindor house, are actually blaming me and my _condition_. Is that a joke? Because it's not funny.", Bael's voice was hoarse and dangerously low. A trait every Black family member seemed to share when angry. The bloody red eyes and hair were a dead give-away of his humor at the time anyway, idly thought Bael.

"Well" continued Rodolphus, but Bael cut him off. Time to hurt him too. Words could be deadly.

"You've never cared about my condition. No wait. You did. Once. And you went to see your whore to support you while you left me with mom. Why do you think I abhor so much to wear your name? You were never there." spat angrily Bael.

His father was livid too. His mother was frustrated.

"Stop doing that son. You want me to act like a father? Act like a son first! You owe me some respect. You're a spoilt brat." Rodolphus shiny eyes told a story of anger. "You don't think you should have greeted when we came down? Or to perhaps send us some letter with a shred of truth … Or let's talk about your desperate attempt of smuggling home muggles. I – your mother was ready to destroy you back then – turned a blind eye to all of these acts." he turned on his heels, "And for your information, I was there when no one was there for you Xer, so don't you dare tell me I was absent!" he fumed

"And yet, I never saw you." spat back Bael not denying any of these facts.

Some other derogatory words were exchanged, but then Rodolphus left by floo first. There was no need to create a scene here. They were making enough ruckus as it was.

"Xer, you taking the Black name hurt him more than you know …" tried his mother.

"Save it. You're no better. You can't expect me to believe the "it just happened" kind of story. You're sterile mom. You have to brew an 18 months potion with particular care. That means I was not even at Hogwarts when you began to brew it."

"And you did not stop to think, that we perhaps, wanted another child?"

Bael sneered – something he had sworn not to do.

"No. No, because you repeat all the time you despise pregnancy and that you would not go through it again. Oh, and is it a mere coincidence that a year and a half ago, St Mangoose's report on my health came back?"

Bael left in a hurry, looking at the conflicting emotions whirling on his mother's face, probably mirroring his own mental state. Taking hastily some floo powder, he had to forcefully drop it down in the chimney fire. Behind him, his mother had stilled.

The Dark Mark had just burnt, a momentous searing pain exploding on their left forearm, vision of a bleak future for the Wizarding World.

 _What a good summer, indeed._

* * *

 **Yeah, Bael is just a jealous prat.**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter, don't forget to leave a review, a like or favorite ^^**

 **See you next week!**


	14. Don't mind me

**Hey Guys! Sorry for the hold up! I kind of just forgot to post and when I remembered I went a bit lazy ... ahaha .. hum. Well, to try and apologize, I will post a bit more frequently for this week. You might get three chapters before next Sunday ;)**

 **Also, seeing as my concours begin in a barely a month from now, I won't have as much time as before. It should not bother you too much, I will still post on Sunday ^^**

 **For the reviews, likes and favorites, thank you all guys! And here comes the next chapter, don't forget to read and review**

* * *

 _Chapter 14: Don't mind me_

 _Newly promoted Vice-chief of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) Rodolphus Lestrange for the reintegration of magical creatures!_

Thus was the title and following article of the Daily Prophet Baelfyre was reading on a fine summer night.

Night had fallen hours ago, but the boy had not found sleep. Nestled in his bed, he had been shivering, afraid of some monsters creeping back on him. Nightmares of years past that had been buried deep resurfaced lately. Since the pseudo confrontation with Voldemort – Bael frowned, even thinking the name felt wrong – memories had resurfaced. From tales he had read in the journal to the never-ending crowd in the Manor, all full of Death-Eaters. He knew the truth to those tales. And more often than not, he found himself disagreeing with the Daily Prophet. There had never been muggle tortured on the Manor's grounds, thank you very much. No sane pureblood would allow some non-magical folk inside. That was preposterous.

Bael sighed. This was why he had fled the Manor to go his aunt's. Not that she knew it yet. It was almost four in the morning, and Bael was safely perched in a tree in the huge garden. Around him, lazying around were Lucius's peacocks – one of which Bael had named Jamesie Jr when he was a kid and that now answered only to this name, Bael laughed remembering the distraught expression of his uncle when he had learnt the trick. In his hand was proudly sitting the Daily Prophet, the Wizarding journal. Said journal explaining in thorough detail the accomplishments of his father in the justice court. His past of former Death-Eater all but forgotten, painting Rodolphus as a terrible victim of the Dark Lord.

Bael snorted. At least his father was no hypocrite like Lucius, shouting insults right and left. He assumed his every decisions and never seemed to have regrets. He was sure it was to protect himself in case of the Dark Lord reemergeance though, thought Bael. Slytherin to the core.

The metamorphmagus cracked his neck while moving in the tree. The small travel to this resting place had been short. He had woken up drenched in sweat – no wonders there. But instead of reaching for his bedtable and take the dreamless draught, the young boy had pushed aside the blankets and stepped outside. Careful not to wake his parents – from the light snoring, his father was fast asleep, his mother probably passing the time until she could fall asleep with her wand – he went downstairs. The chimney was still burning brightly.

Without much thought, Bael had taken the floo powder, deactivated the Malfoys wards (Rabastan had shown him how to do so – thank Merlin he had some useful peers) and was gone. He knew the next morning his parents would admonish him again. But since the whole summer had been quiet tensed, what with his new sibling coming forth somewhere next February, Bael did not think they would talk much. To say Bael had been jealous had been an understatement. His sulking had reached a new height these days.

Amongst other things his father and him were on a no talking basis. Which was quickly irritating his mother who in turn would glare at them to speak.

So, as expected, mornings were spent in glaring for the whole family. Breakfast was ... particular.

But Bael suspected his mother knew of his sleeping troubles. Day after day, the potion store of dreamless draught was replenishing. And as beautiful as magic was, Bael knew only his parents had the authority to ask the elves to stock more potions there. And when he said parents, he of course meant his mother. Again, his father and he were leading a small civil war, waging some terrible battles - and yes, none of them were above tripping spells in the garden.

Naturally, when one day Rodolphus had gone back to the Manor a bit earlier than he used to, Bael had been wary. Dutifully father and son had ignored each other while Bellatrix had greeted him with an interrogated glare. As always, they had never been a well-functioning family. Endearing acts between his parents were scarce, if non-existent. Well, on his mother's part. His dad had always used the oblivious card.

"I've got good news, Bella dear. Fudge, on Lucius advice, chose a new under-secretary, one Dolorès Umbridge."

"Really." The disinterested tone of Bellatrix – she was reading some heavy book pouring negative waves all over the sofa she was sat upon – came.

"Yes!" jovially answered Rodolphus, opting to ignore his wife when he saw she was not getting up to kiss him. "She will be in charge with Bones of the revising of the old laws."

"Which ones?" finally asked Bellatrix when Rodolphus came right in front of her.

"Well, to name a few, the muggle restriction regulation, magical creatures, the inheritance or even the Substitute Name. "

Now, that had picked Bael's interest.

"What do they hope to achieve? They are like hundreds of related bills to the Substitute Name." muttered Bael, crossing since some time his father's eyes. He had smiled the mean smile.

"Well, son. Umbridge owes me big time."

"So what? You're gonna use your new-found influence over her and force her to abolish the law? What of the so-called traditions you've cherished?" replied Bael, narrowing his eyes. It was almost impossible to reform such old laws. Too much of a hassle, hours of work for an outdated law. There also was a law forbidding women to wear pants, but no one listened to that anymore. Obviously. Bael rolled his eyes. His father was veined, to think he was trying to threaten him with these lame facts.

His father had shrugged.

"Traditions can be changed, isn't that what you used to shout all over the place?" A fake – to Bael's mind – fondness on his face. Bael had frowned but not say anything else. And then his father had boasted about a possible promotion as the very number 2 of the DMLE and then dragged his brother with him to a bar.

Which now led to one Bael regretting not having taken some more entertaining paper than the Daily prophet to spend the night. He sorely needed some breathing room. And the fresh morning air was definitely a good plus. Here, the wind was blowing slowing, creating a soft breeze. In an hour, the first rays of the sun would permeate on the horizon.

Bael leaned against the bark of the tree, admiring the view.

"What are you doing here?"

The unexpected voice of his uncle almost made him jump and fall to the ground. Sweat dropping, Bael turned.

There, tucked in an alcove, hidden with a disillusion charm, laid his uncle. Bael cocked an eyebrow.

"What are _you_ doing here?" return Bael lightly.

Lucius Malfoy sneered.

"This is my home, I can do whatever pleases me."

"Right." Deadpanned Bael, "So spill, why did Aunty Cissy shove you out?"

Lucius looked grim in the dim light.

"That's none of your business" hissed Lucius. "And I'll have you known, she will be there shortly. There is no way she has not heard the ward flaring up at your entrance."

"Ha. As if."

"Don't take that tone. You're two decades too young to try and hold the candle. But for your information, Narcissa thought it would be nice to change the wards specially for you. That way, you would be perfectly trackable on the grounds."

Bael blinked.

"What am I? A dog?"

No answer came. Bael rolled his eyed.

The two wizards did not speak more, each one comfortably sat. In a touching moment, they assisted to the break of dawn.

"AAAAAOOOOOOOOOONNNNN"

Suddenly, the peacocks woke up. The very first one screaming into Bael's ear – yes it was a female peacock and not the bark he was leaning on – thus waking the others who screamed at once. The beautiful landscape ruined by the sounds of the birds.

Scowling – and partly deaf – Bael left his tree and Lucius alone. There was no point in hiding his presence anyway. He opened the doors quickly and went face to face with his aunt.

"Aunt Cissy!" greeted Bael. The witch in question was obviously just waking up. The sophisticated look she usually wore was nowhere near her. A four in the morning wake-up call by peacocks would do that to anyone.

"Xerxès." She politely welcomed him, patting a place next to her chair on the huge table where she was taking her breakfast.

"Did the peacocks wake you up?" asked Bael, sitting right next to her. He ordered a nice breakfast to Dobby, the Malfoy House elf, who promptly delivered it to him.

"Not particularly. I believe Draco and his friends partied all night and shook some foundations." She smirked fondly.

 _Ah, now, that explains why Lucius was sleeping outside. He hates this kind of ruckus. But I wonder why not use a simple charm …_

His aunt answered his question when he voiced it.

"You can't sleep then. You basically cancel out all of your spells while sleeping."

"Then why not Dobby?"

"he is … unreliable. Draco can order him too."

Bael shrugged and changed the subject to Draco.

"His friends? Which ones?"

"His dormmates." Simply answered his aunt, sipping from her coffee. "And you? What are you doing here? Tormenting this poor Jamesie again?"

Bael allowed a smile thinking of the peacock. He could have.

"Not really. Just wanted to get out."

Narcissa cocked her eyebrow this time.

"What happened this time?"

Bael shrugged, hiding – and failing – to hide his yawn.

"Bella tells me you have been having some trouble sleeping." Urged Narcissa.

 _She always was keen and quick to hit the bullseyes …_

"Want to talk about it?" she asked softly, shuffling his hair.

Bael said nothing for a while, sorely attempted to confide in.

"I … the nightmares came back." He finally articulated. "The inferii are back …" he whispered, knowing full well his aunt had heard him. Her sharp intake of breath said as much.

"inferii, uh? That bad … I wonder what prompted them to come back …" she murmured, caressing softly his head. "Anything to say?"

Guilt pervaded his senses. He certainly would not admit to any Death-eater he had taken some part about the Dark Lord not reaching the Philosopher's stone. He was not entertaining the suicide option.

"It burnt." Said simply Bael showing her the tattoo. And here, branded on his skin, came the moving snake and skull. The very same one Narcissa had. And every other adult bar his grandmother had.

Narcissa only sighed.

"Yes. It must have for you. You don't know how to Apparate yet, so the energy sent to the tattoo is converted in a burnt."

Bael was surprised. He did not know that.

"You convert the energy? Is that even possible? And why was it acting up? I thought I had to be 15" he asked in wonder.

"it certainly is. That way we can trace it back to the source. And for your last question, I can only think of a wavering in the spells in your tattoo. It must have burnt when the Dark Lord alerted his followers of his return."

Bael frowned. It seemed like a crude but affective method to call back troops in war time. Were they in war time?

"So you know where _He_ is?" He risked. But Narcissa negated.

"No. it was too fugace. Come, let's talk about something else. You look battered … did you sleep at all?", Bael's yellow hair threw him to the wolves, "You're going back to sleep nephew, now. Come, your room is always prepared."

Narcissa did not give him a choice and dragged him upstairs to his room the very next second she finished her words. Climbing the stairs, Bael followed her like a zombie, turning right to the aisle he knew the rooms to be. His was on the far east, the first one to get the sunlight. It was a fine white room with a part of the wall painted green. Bael plunged into the huge sized bed the moment he came into the room.

"You kept Sobek's rests?" quietly said Bael as he regarded his old snake plushy. Battered, the once 3 meters long toy was reduced to a small half-meter. Result of a terrible war-tug between him and Pansy Parkinson when they were kids.

"Need a lullaby, you big baby?" smirked slightly his aunt while waving her wand to change some light in the room. Bael was clutching the once snake toy in his arms.

"I'm not a kid." Grumbled Bael

"Sure. Sweet dreams Xer." She said softly.

Bael was out like a light in mere seconds. He did not have the time to realize his aunt had cast the sleeping charm on him. Oh well, the bed seemed warm enough.

* * *

"Mooom!" came the tired voice of Draco Malfoy.

His mother turned on her heels carefully. She had just put to sleep her rebellious nephew and had now to take care of her just as immature son. At barely four a.m..

"Draco. Morning too."

The boy was embarrassed, but he apologized and greeted her too. With a hug. A small smile graced Narcissa's features.

"Yes, what is it?"

"The Hogwarts letters!" excitedly said Draco, waving in his free hand a stack of letters. And he stopped momentarily, "Is Xerxès home? There was a letter addressed to him too."

Narcissa took it and answered him.

"yes. I believe he arrived in the night."

"Why can he do that? I mean, I am not allowed at Bella's."

"Because Bella would sooner attack you than recognize a person at night walking her corridor's Manor."

"That's unfair." Whined Draco.

But the blonde left quickly when he heard his name being called by his friend. Narcissa shook her head slightly and left for the garden. It was time to stir her husband from the peacocks nests.

* * *

In truth, Bael was not having much nightmares. Well, not the inferii infested ones. These were long gone and he had no doubt they would stay there, burried in the deep recess of his mind. They had come once or twice, but nothing too traumatizing. At least, for the time being. Bael turned in his bed, covering his head under the blankets.

He was afraid. Yes. But of several things, all of them not related to the Dark Lord. First of all, the conversation about his new sibling kept resurfacing to the forefront of his mind.

"Aren't you happy of being a big brother?" his mother had asked him once the shouting had stopped after the Yaxley party. They were back at Lestrange Manor, their House elf, Poena, serving them some drinks. His father was collapsed in a sofa, glaring intently at the raging fire in the Chimney, Rabastan out-cold in his rooms, while his mother and he were having a face-off.

"I'm delighted." mocked Bael

« Don't be like this. You won't be disinherited or replaced. »

His father faraway reply "if you so much as think to join Dumbledore and his cronies I'm sure we can remedy that"

Bael had come close to lash out at his father. He was distressed and his father had had the good idea to piss him off even more. The windows had trembled and his father had narrowed his eyes. Another conversation had ensued about controlling magic or dying an oscurus, destroyed by his own magic.

But that was not his fear. So to speak. He knew – and he had apologized to his mother, not that his father wanted to hear him these days – for his bout of almost accidental magic. She had waved him off, but Bael certainly felt like a fool now. He was afraid his parents would show more attention to the newborn than they ever paid attention to him. As a child, he could perfectly remember the moment of absences of his parents. They were rarely home, always off fighting or at some meeting. Eventually, Bael had taken to visiting the mansion. He had almost gotten lost into the corridors once – a painting which name he could not replace had helped him – but the distinct feeling of his parents not caring about his well-being had hurt him. He had spent the night in the corridors before Poena had found him.

So he had tried to make the most efforts into the smallest things. A baby talk. Asking for hugs. Or even trying to imitate them, that is to say walking on early on. Or trying to. They had not moved. Just smiled a bit, sighed and went to bed.

But now that the war was over, now that his parents were almost always home, Bael found himself jealous. His new sibling would have the attention of every single adult and their approval. He, back then, only had Cissy, and sometimes one of his parents. And rarely both at the same time.

When Draco had come, he had been put out. Or so his mother had told him.

He was inclined to believe her. It was very much like him to demand attention from the adults.

Bael turned again in his bed. His jealousy was showing its ugly rear.

 _What will happen if this sibling ends up like them? Like us?_

That sordid question froze Bael's insides. They were Death-Eaters. They bribed people on a daily basis. To each their own, but even Bael was not a stranger to these shenanigans. He had had his fair share of blackmailing material. Even the Sorting hat had said as much, before asking him an ultimatum.

" _To live or to wish? Choose wisely young Lestrange."_

 _I don't want to regret anything._

" _I doubt there is a life worth living without past regrets. They make us stronger. »_

 _« That's nonsense. If I have to carve my own path without regrets, then I'll do it. »_

" _Ohoh, quiet the ambitious one. And very shrewd. Ah, yes, there is great potential for Slytherin …_

" _Then why don't you send me there already?"_

" _You know why. I can't make decisions that would bring you sadness. »_

" _I would be sad in Slytherin?"_

" _Mmmh, difficult to tell. No, I think, you would not take the right opportunities at the right moments."_

" _My whole family was sorted into Slytherin. »_

" _Yes. Does it not tell you so much about education and childhood ? »_

" _I … am not your typical family brat."_

" _No, you're not. You defy traditions and yet you are probably the most knowledgeable on these. You are set on these codes, I believe. »_

 _« Choose for me already. »_

 _« Rude. Like father like son. GRYFFINDOR!»_

 _Bael had blinked. That was unexpected. Unexpected but welcomed._

The young metamorphmagus sighed again. Thirsty, he commanded Dobby to fetch him a glass of water. He was too lazy to conjure one by himself.

 _Do I even know how to do it?_

Bael pondered the question some precious minutes before falling asleep yet again. This time, memories, happy ones, with his mother came. Tainted with the dark aura of the war, these times still were his favourite with his mother. After that … it had always been different. After that fateful trial, after meeting the unnamed aunt, after Azkaban …

" _Xer, come here. See that eagle over there?" had asked his mother, scoping a young Bael in her arms., "It used to be Wizarding Britain's symbol of queen's familiar."_

" _Why? » asked the childish voice of the young child, hair wildly churning in happiness._

 _« The tale reaches far back, to the middle ages. Back then, wizards were at war with the muggles », the young Bael snuggled more into Bellarix's sides, « and the Stars."_

" _The stars? » repeated Bael_

 _« yes, the Stars. They were some of the fiercest warriors. They came with some unimaginable shape shifting abilities."_

" _Like me! » nearly screamed Bael. Bellatrix indulged a smile._

 _« Well, my little champion, I doubt it. The Stars were eradicated during the war against us. But they left us the gift of the majestic eagle, king of the skies. Only the Queen tamed it. It was said the Stars used to soar the skies, and could be seen from miles away even in daylight. Thus acquiring the surname "Stars". Now they're not here anymore but they have left us with some nice monuments and structures. Remember the daunted tower? The one with the multicolored skies? This is one of the many sacred places of the Stars. A tower to the fallen, skies for the living, earth to the dead.»_

 _« it's sad. » had pouted Bael, hair darkening, "I like the Peverell's story better!"_

 _His mother had squeezed him, kissing his nose._

" _Perhaps I will read it once more for you tonight, after the muggles I have to chase."_

" _Mum, I don't like muggles." Frowned Bael, "They called me monster when my hair changed …"_

 _His mother had turned her sharped eyes toward him._

" _Don't worry baby. They are stupid and ignorant. You're the cutest little boy I know!»_

 _« Mom! I'm five! I'm a grown up now. »_

 _She had kissed his nose merrily again, ignoring his distressed complaints._

"Why are these memories resurfacing?" wondered Bael, "The Stars tale … I did not like it. It was so much less enchanting than the Beedle's Bard counts.", idly, Bael sat up on his bed. That and his mother had never really told him the entire story. He had read it in a book years later. His mother had never been one to read counts anyway.

" _I have been and am the Dark Lord most faithful servant. He taught me how to wield the Dark Arts and I know spells of such might you won't ever be able to stand up to me." The screeching voice of his mother reached Bael's ears. There, in front of him, his oh so strong mother and father, chained down to a chair, demented looks surrounding them. Dementors hovering just next to them, judges far off in the distance so as not to feel the effect of the monsters._

Bael shook his head hard. No need to resass this particular event. It was not one he fancied. The trial was a turning point in his life though. He had met soon after Andromeda who had kindly cared for him in his distraught phase.

"It's almost midday …" yawned Bae as he peered through his huge window room, "I was not woken up by some silly pranks. What a surprise …"

Slowly, Bael left the bed, took a shower and changed for the day. He ignored on his way downstairs Draco and his cronies, and simply went to the table to eat some food. His aunt waved him over.

"Your letter has come."

Bael thanked her briskly and opened it quickly. He cocked an eyebrow when he browsed the list.

"Flashnews, the new DADA teacher is a Lockhart fan." Muttered Bael, "read any of those?" asked Bael to his aunt. She slightly blushed.

"Any self-respecting witch or wizard should read them." She murmured.

Bael shrugged. He had not, and somehow, the biography of said Lockhart was not a particular book he wanted to even pick off the stands in a library.

"I'll ask mom to go to Diagon Alley today. I think I need to see the optician anyway. Need something?" politely asked Bael after setting a plate on the table full of mashed potatoes and some duck.

His aunt tuned her head toward him.

"No, thank you. Why do you even need to go see the optician?"

Bael awkwardly shuffled his eyes.

"Uh, I received some troll blood in my eyes at the end of the year. Ever since, my eyesight's been blurry."

"… What were you doing with a troll at Hogwarts?" the worried whispers of Narcissa came.

"Hum, Quirrel let one in the Castle. He died too said Dumbledore."

Narcissa humphed. Her face seemed vaguely horrified though.

"And Pomfresh did not look your eyes?"

"She said it would go back to normal but she failed to mention the potential degrading of the eyesight." Answered Bael swiftly.

"Whatever. Just finish and get your mother down Diagon Alley. And why in the seven shades of Merlin have you waited this long to tell us about your eyesight?"

"Uh … I forgot?" grinned Bael already in the floo with his Hogwarts letter, "Tell Draco I sent him my undying love!" and Bael left in a flare of green flames, a smirk adorning his aunt's face.

* * *

As expected, no one was here to greet him at the Manor. His father and uncle Rabastan were probably already gone to the Ministry and his mother somewhere off in the library. When she was not off to some international Duel, she stayed home. And with her pregnant, she was often found in the library reading some more books about fighting. Slowly lifting his feet out of the Chimney, he soothed his robes. He then went off chasing after his mother, widely hoping she would not be in a violent mood. He had no particular envy to try and duel her. Again. She had plundered him into a wall the first few times with literally three spells. His father had not even tried and Rabastan was the only poor soul left in the Manor who was more or less willing to duel his mother. He was actually sporting a very nice new black-eye.

As Bael was walking along the wide corridors, he suddenly realized there was no noise at all.

 _Was the Manor shut down? That has not happened in ages …_

Bael stealthily followed the directions his wand gave him to his mother's location. And as he approached the study room, Bael realized his mother was with somebody. Grinning at the potential blackmail material – some scandalous affair perhaps? – Bael opened the door. Only to see the frowning face of Lucius Malfoy, a good five meters separating him and his mother.

He calmed down very fast as two wands were pointed directly over his heart. Gulping, Bael raised his hand in surrender.

"Sorry." Apologized Bael not sorry at all. The drawn wands found their original places at once, "Am I interrupting something?"

"Only one of Lucius idiotic moments." Sneered his mother drinking some more in a glass she had just conjured.

Bael cocked an eyebrow.

"How so?"

Lucius humphed and left with a small, "It can't wait anymore. You should keep it out of your vault too."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes.

"Your stupidity is going to get you killed Lucius." She warned in a calm voice, "Now, what do you want Xerxès?"

Bael, who was still wondering what was that talk took some time to answer his dear mother.

"The Hogwarts letter just came in. Can we go to Diagon Alley?" asked Bael while giving his mother the list. She took it and read it quickly.

"Lockhart's books?" muttered Bellatrix, "These are awful."

"You read them? Cissy seemed … to like these books"

His mother snorted.

"Of course, she would. Some bullshit stories if I ever saw one, let me tell you. Anyway, we can go now if you're ready."

Bael nodded. He had not planned anything particular for the day and since his father was off, the tension between his family and him was not as high. Even if the mother-son duo aptly avoided any topics of pregnancy and newborn sibling, the not so subtles hints in some sentences freshly reminded them they were at odds.

"Do you want something in particular?" asked his mother just before they left by the floo. Bael, surprised, peered at his mother. He blushed in embarrassment when he met the knowing smile of his mother. "You've been squinting your eyes a lot lately."

"I'm tired …"

"Xexès, out with it." Breathed his mother, actively waving her wand.

Bael's hair went a nice pink color in a second, sign of his confused feeling between embarrassment and anger.

"I need to go see the optician. The magical glasses wear on Diagon Alley should do the trick." Whimpered Bael.

"And why, pray tell, is your eyesight going so down you can't modify it with your abilities?"

Bael blinked in agony. _Magical beasts do that to you_ he thought.

"uh, well. See, there was this mountain troll at Hogwats and …"

 _Help me._

* * *

 **End of the chapter!**

 **I'll try to keep the summer chapters rather short, but honestly I have planned for some serious shit for the next summer.**

 **Anyway, hope you all liked it, leave a like or a review (or do both :)) to let me know what you all thought of that.**

 **See you soon**


	15. Express back home

**Hey! How's it going? Told you I would post the next chapter soon ;)**

 **Anyway, you know the drill, read and review!**

* * *

 _Chapter 15: Express back home_

« RONNALD BILIUS WEASLEY ! »

The frightening voice of one Ms Weasley smeared space into two separate halves. Or so kept telling himself Ron as he was crouching down in the garden; Apparently his degnoming the garden sessions with his brothers (and Ginny but she did not really count as a girl, did she?) had not gone on too well for the matriarch. For Ron, he had effectively set a new record on the "how far can you throw the gnome!".

"I did not do anything, I swear!" screamed Ron still down on the earthy soil of the garden.

But, as predicted, Ms Weasley did not care about any excuses her children could come up with. She came tumbling down in the garden, holding in her right hand her wand, in her left one, a stack of letters.

"What are these exactly?"

Ron gulped.

"uh … Sirius's letter …?"

The howl leaving the throat of the mighty woman scared Ron for the very next two months. Between the sad pats his brothers had for him – really comforting, really – and the glares of his mother, Ron had fled to his room in a record time.

The shouting still ringing in his ears, the poor wizard let himself fell on his bed. Even the wild orange display of the Chudley Cannons could not cheer him up.

"Whyyy?" groaned the boy in his pillow, "I was just exchanging some mail with Sirius."

 _I don't want to hear about what you've been planning with this good-for-nothing wizard!_ Still came the imaginary reply of his mother in his head.

"He's an Auror too …" mumbled Ron, "And we were not talking about pranks or something … he does that with Fred and George."

Ron thus, had successfully avoided a long afternoon after telling on his older brothers. That way he only had to make himself scarce for an afternoon and soon after things would turn back to normal.

The huge ruckus his mother was causing in the twin rooms – no doubt looking for more evidence of their mischief – hampered Ron from finding some sleep. So the boy grabbed the letter proudly sitting on his makeshift side table. There, opened on the book list, was another letter. Neville and Hermione had written to him the whole summer, but this one came from his best friend, Bael. It was signed with his signature scrawl, a mere photo attached. A muggle picture, more exactly. Sitting on a balcony somewhere in Paris – going from the Eifel Tower behind his back – he was grinning madly. Next to him two girls their age were also laughing.

 _So I kinda left for a day_ were the words inscribed on the picture. Ron was pretty sure his friend had lost his mind. Never would he have attempted such stupid things. Then again, impossible did not seem to be in his friend's vocabulary.

Hermione had owled him about the picture too, asking about magical Paris. That much, he did not know. Bael was going to be very pestered by their girl friend come September 1st.

"Psst. Ron!"

The boy turned his head toward the obnoxious noise. It had come from his window. Hastily, the boy opened the panel. There, perched on a broom was one Ginny. Ron almost shouted at her – since when did she know how to ride a broom like that? – but refrained. No need to attract his mother attention yet again The afternoon was not over.

"What is it?" smartly asked the boy. His sister rolled her eyes but playfully answered.

"Mom says we're going to Diagon Alley in a few. I thought you wanted to come with us … so perhaps, if you came down in about thirty minutes or so, you could be taken with us too."

Ron blinked.

"You were going to let me here?! Scandalous!" shouted Ron.

"Hey, listen twat. I give you a free pass with us and you'll owe me at Diagon Alley. I'm first."

Ron muttered some dark things – enough to have his mouth washed if his mother ever heard him say such distasteful words.

"Right. Thank you." Forced out Ron, still unbelievably. "I'll be down in a few."

Ginny winked and left in a dive. Ron actually let out a small whistle. His baby sister certainly knew how to ride a broom. That dive took some serious skills.

True to his words, thirty minutes later, Ron went downstairs. There his whole family was gathered.

"Ah, Ron. There you are. I was going to fetch you." Joyfully said Arthur Weasley. Ron sent a withering glare to his sister – she coincidently seemed enthralled with the rug in front of the chimney – but babbled some intelligible words.

Soon enough the whole Weasley gang was out in the leaky cauldron, pushing every people out of their path. In an orderly fashion Molly Weasley counted her children and led everybody outside toward the entrance of Diagon Alley.

"Alright, children. Here's the plan." Entonned the father, "We're going into two separate groups. Molly will go to Ms Malkin while we go for Terry and Bott. No discussion. The quidditch shop will be for later."

The children all complained but nothing could be done. Arthur Weasley seemed to be immune to his children's petty squabble by now. Fortunately for the man, his wife silenced all her children with yet another one of her glare. She then let a small smile, took Ginny's hand and wafted her way through the crowd toward the clothes shop.

Arthur Weasley gulped.

"Alright boys. I want no misbehaviour." Began the red head. His sons had another idea.

"Bael!" shouted Ron over his father's voice - ignoring him completely - while the twins were muttering some plan to take over the Alley. Even the older son, Percy Weasley seemed entranced in a book shop.

Although, the name Ron had shouted ringed some uncomfortable memories. That Bael there … the Lestrange one. Was his family there? Arthur Weasley had absolutely no envy to meet them.

Soon enough, a boy, _alone_ came toward Ron. A bit taller than Fred and George, dark long curly hair pushed up in a bun and sporting a pair of round glasses – was the glinting really real gold on the branches? Most certainly, knowing the family - the metamorphmagus grinned lazily back to the Weasleys.

"You're wearing glasses now." Stated Ron after an intricate high-five with his best friend.

Bael shrugged.

"Yeah. The troll incident." Simply said Bael, "My mother was furious too. We got them a month ago, but I honestly thought the knife she was sharpening in the shop was meant for me. Or Dumbledore. Same difference at this point.", The awkward face the boy made was priceless. "So, how was your summer?"

Ron explained in minutes details the very hours he spent at the Burrow with Neville. The boy had invited Neville over for two weeks at the end of July.

Now that the two boys were immersed in a deep conversation about the colors of the gnome, depending on their moods asserted the metamorphmagus, Arthur Weasley heaved a sigh.

"Well, boys. We're going to Fleurish and Bott. Perhaps you want to come with us, Bael. Are your parents near?" asked the patriarch with an edge in his voice.

The young metamorphmagus stilled.

"My parents? I don't think they know I'm here … I kinda fled lunch with the family …"

Arthur Weasley sweat-dropped. That child had some serious issues.

"Okay. Stay with us then. It's never too safe."

Bael nodded and followed them. Soon enough the boys all made their way to the library. Surprisingly, a huge crowd of wizards was gathered in front of the magical store. On a side note, Bael had seen the Malfoys. Freezing like a deer caught in headlights, he hastily morphed his feature into some unrecognizable face. At his changing face, the other Weasley followed his train of sight and paled at the blond heads of the Malfoys.

"Well, stay as far as you can from them." Muttered Arthur, sending a small note to his wife. He had seen her and his daughter on the far corner. "Let's get inside and find the new DADA books. We're taking two sets only. Since all of you need the same books …"

The boys listened and sped inside. Unfortunately, the inside of the shop was even more crowded. The boys barely could move.

"What is all of that for?" groaned Ron between two hushed wizards profusely sweating.

Bael hurried his friend to a side alley.

"Gilderoy Lockhart is there." Pointed the boy. At the hand of the finger, Ron could effectively see a wizard with blond hair and a dazzling smile.

"Hey, wait. Mate, is that Neville?"

Bael heartily laughed.

"You bet it is!"

The two friends mocked their fellow Gryffindor friend for a good two minutes. The poor Neville seemed completely uncomfortable in the adult wizard's arms. He kept looking around him, his eyes darting to every possible issue. His eyes even went past Ron and Bael – he glowered at the sight of the two boys merrily laughing at his expanse, what were they doing together anyway?

"…professor at Hogwarts the school of witchcraft and wizardry!" claimed the obnoxious voice of Lockhart centimeters above his right ear. Neville narrowed his eyes in understanding. The baboon was going to be their next DADA professor! Opening his mouth agape, Neville left hurriedly with his parents, not really caring about the picture. He had enough for the day anyway. He had almost gone to see Ron but wisely gave him the wide berth when he saw Draco Malfoy preying on him. He had no particular envy to indulge into some verbal assault with the ponce before Hogwarts even began.

* * *

On their part, Bael and Ron were scouring the alleys, waiting for the Weasley parents to finish their shopping in the book store. The two were exchanging already idea about the next prank to do. Between two laughs, the boys went face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"What do you want?" grunted Ron while Bael tried to make himself scarce. He was trying to hide his heavily ringed hand – the ones sporting the easily recognizable Black and Lestrange family rings and some other fancy men jewelry – and desperately hoping his cousin would not remark the similarity of the glasses. Fortunately for him, Draco Malfoy was solely focused on the poor Ron. As the conversation was escalating into a some brawl of sorts, Bael intervened. Or tried to.

A cane was stopping him from going in.

"Well, well, well. Xerxès. How charming to see you there. I believe Druella has some words to tell you after the stunt you pulled."

"Uncle Lucius. What are _you_ doing here? I thought you were on a self-imposed important mission, or so mom says." Muttered Bael, cursing the rings. He reverted back to his usual appearance. Lucius did not answer him.

"So, do explain what you're doing here." Demanded the adult, looking vaguely disgusted at the sight of Ron.

"Hum, the Hogwarts shopping." Condescendingly answered Bael in an obvious kind of tone.

"Oh, really?" sarcastically replied Lucius, "I was under the impression your mother was looking for you. And Rodolphus left for the Ministry to track your Trace."

Bael deflated immediately.

"Can he even do that?" whispered the boy.

But Lucius was not paying attention to him anymore. He was too busy antagonizing Ron and his family. Or more exactly, studying with rapt attention the second-hand books one Ginny Weasley was holding in a cauldron, while Arthur Weasley was quickly changing to a nice new shade of red. Smartly, Bael waved a good-bye sign to Ron, leaving the shop before his own father could throw some Aurors after him – he would not put it past him. He urgently took the floo back to his manor, to confront both his mother and grand-mother, wondering why he had thought it would be a good idea to leave in the middle of lunch. He was hungry now.

* * *

The sun was slowly taking place in the skies of Great Britain. At a pace entirely too slow for most of the future students of Hogwarts. Amongst them, the never-tired first years, the hoping ones of a new life, devoid of some shady characters that composed their just as shady family or just the tired ones.

And like each year, the 1st of September was a sort of small disaster. The Burrow where all the Weasleys were inhabiting was now being touched by a hurricane of shouting. This very year, 5 out of the 7 children of the Weasley family would leave for Hogwarts, leaving behind them a calm house to return to. Only if they could wake up though. Because all of the children had partied last night, without their mother knowing it of course, they were now unable to lift even a small finger to move. Relentlessly, the mother of the children pushed them out of their beds and made the last minute laundry the children had yet again forgotten to give to her the day before.

Heaving a sigh as she closed one of her son's door, Molly Weasley reminded Fred that no, putting his fingers in the key hole of Percy's luggage was not a good idea, and that yes, he had to finish his own trunk before leaving. Honestly, this boy had already been three times at Hogwarts, he knew the rules. He was not a five year old anymore.

At a speed belied by her age, Molly Weasley whipped her wand and folded the last of her son's clothes. She briefly greeted her husband, who was just as much tired as she was. They both knew this year was going to be yet another struggle to bring all of their children to the station with all of their stuffs. She probably would have to send Errol with the missing quills and parchment she was sure she had seen on Ron's desk. Oh well. Another exciting morning at the Burrow …

* * *

"Come one, Fred, George. Help your sister find Maureen and a compartment in the train." Admonished the matriarch on the dock of the train station. She had just passed the barrier and was ushering everyone inside the train. They were almost late. A minute later and the train would have been already gone.

"George! I don't care if you're Fred, _put immediately Scabbers down and give it back to Ron!"_ shouted Molly Weasley as she saw through a window of the moving train the distinct of her mischievous sons playing yet again with Ron's rat. Arthur Weasley tried to calm is wife by patting her back.

"Don't worry about them. I'm sure they will do splendidly."

"Let's hope no toilet seat or mountain troll will be destroyed this time …" muttered the matriarch with a small smile gracing her features. At least, life was so much more entertaining with her boys.

Farther away from them were the Potter. Them too were waving goodbye to their daughter, Maureen, who was leaving on the train with the small Ginny. As enchanting as the scene was – James Potter seemed bent on giving his daughter some tips to wreak havoc in Hogwarts's corridors, the raucous Sirius was just next to them muttering some lost words to his best friend.

"Look at that Prongs … I am so telling you she did not feed him this summer … so pale … so thin …"

"Perhaps he is sick." Proposed James finally responding his friend's pleas.

"Look at that … mate, he is trying to flee her clutches." Muttered Sirius.

Lily Potter finally paid attention to the two adult jokesters.

"Whose cat are you talking about? The Bones again?"

The two looked at her as if she had grown a second head.

"Hrm." James cleared his throat, "We're talking about Andy's nephew. You know, the one Sirius was supposed to watch over the summer."

Lily blinked.

"I thought Sirius said he had fled Great Britain and found a refugee in Paris."

Sirius sniffed.

"He was lured back in! He's waiting his 17th birthday to leave his home. I doubt they would not try to chase him down. I say he's being tortured amongst the snakes."

"Yeah … poor Padfoot junior." Added James.

If Lily could have breathed some fire, she would have incinerated her husband and his best friend. Really, there was only the two of them to gloat from the other's unhappiness. And there were also the only ones to name a poor child after Sirius … Way to give some miscreant idea to an innocent child. He was no Marauder.

But Lily thought back again. That boy there, had sent her daughter a toilet seat, if only to impress Fred and George, the twins who were trying to take after the Marauders. The witch decided not to think about it anymore. She was not about to add some thoughts into a desperate case. So she put some hair behind her ear and waved back to her daughter in the train. And just as the train was leaving she took her husband by the arm and demanded some calm.

"Stop being a clown. We're going Oh, and Sirius, say hello to your family and let's leave. I've got to be at work in an hour."

James complied while Sirius whined about not being a kid anymore. A truth belied by his antics: he had seen the Tonks and stuck his tongue out at them playfully – fortunately, the Tonkses did not seem to mind.

"I meant all of them Sirius. You do have other cousins on the far corner of the dock." Pointed Lily with her wand to a murderous looking Bellatrix and just as pissed off Narcissa. The two were sneering at Sirius and Andromeda in some derogatory tones, most certainly.

Sirius fled the dock in record time.

"He is going to be on time for the Auror office. That actually must be a first." Contemplated James, weaving his own path through the retiring parents with his wife. She scolded him playfully.

"He's so predictable. Oh, look, Arthur seems annoyed."

Effectively, the male was as red as his hair, while he was explaining to his wife, who was slowly turning paler by the second, some story of sorts.

* * *

Ron had had no chance this morning. First he had been late. Not hearing the alarm clock would have done that to anyone. Worst, he had been clamped against the window the whole time it took to get to the station. All of this because Percy had decided he needed some space to live. That twerp.

And then, just as he had to take his luggage and followed his parents to cross the barrier, he had met full on the wall. Next to him – perhaps his only lucky star of the day – laid Neville. He too seemed to have taken a wall in that face at full speed.

"Hey, Nev'." Hollered Ron, "You okay there?"

"Mmmh, it could be worse." Muttered the boy while scratching a newly formed thump on his face. "Did we lose our magic or something? The barrier refused to open for us …" asked concerned Neville, a hand still on the wall where the barrier should have been.

But Ron was not listening to him. He was intently looking at the clock floating above.

"No mate … We're just too late …"

Neville followed his friend's gaze: the clock could read 11:01. The Hogwarts Express had left without them. Panic took hold of his brain. For the next few moments and even Ron seemed a bit paler than he used to be.

"Hey, listen Nev'. I've got this insane idea but … it could work."

Neville still lulled into his panic induced attack did not listen to him. So he was dragged out of the station with his friend.

"My dad enchanted his car so that it could fly.", Neville made a face. His friend was not suggesting they really fly all the way to Hogwarts in a car. In the muggle world too.

"We can't do that." Stammered Neville more firmly than he ever thought he could have done.

Ron stopped on his track. The car keys inside the blue Anglia Ford.

"Listen mate, either you stay here, either we go on together. I personally do not want to stay home one more year."

"What you're doing is called bullying on the weak. That's blackmail."

"Absolutely." Grinned Ron, "I'm happy we reached the same conclusion. Let's go, my parents should come back in a few. We need to get there before they do."

On these very words, Ron led his friend to the parking lot and pushed Neville's luggage in the back seat of the car. He then helped Neville on the front seat while he himself took the steering wheel. A not so serene Neville – he was so close to fainting – zeroed in on Ron's shaking hands.

"You do know how to ride that thing, right?"

"Uh, I saw my father do it dozens of time. It should not be too complicated." Came the shaky answer.

Neville wisely chose to ignore Ron and focus on the wonders of the car. It had been enchanted to be bigger inside than outside. 10 people could easily fit in. That was some grand magic, thought discardedly Neville. His mind decided to butt in Ron's actions when he heard a weird noise.

"What's that?" demanded in high pitch voice Neville.

"It's the car starting. Look, I think that button is the invisible one." Showed Ron.

"look ahead!" screamed Neville before Ron could look down. Fortunately, Neville had warned Ron. They would have destroyed the five or so next cars stopped in front of them.

"Okay, time to pull up!"

"No! The window! Ron!" screamed Neville as he saw the opened window vacuuming what used to be in the box in the front seat.

"I don't know how!" screamed back Ron, focused on following the train rails of the Hogwarts Express.

Both of the boys were profusely sweating. The billowing wind in the car creating a mess unseen in ages. _My clothes …_ Neville saw them leaving his trunk and caught them before they could leave by the window.

"I'm never following you again in this kind of adventure. We're so going to be expelled …"

"Not if the teachers never learn of it." Smoothly replied Ron

Somehow, Neville doubted such a thing could happen. They would need some inside helper in the train to testify for their presence in the train.

"Hey, you think the journalist will realize you were in the car? Like imagine _He-who-survived flew in a car to Hogwarts_ "

Neville groaned. Long hours were announcing themselves, he thought bitterly.

* * *

On the train, Bael was agitated. First of all, he had felt humiliated – and he knew his mother had done that on purpose – when she had shouted some "Don't talk to mudbloods, honey!". Bael had been completely mortified. Because said _mudbloods_ had heard it. Hermione – Bael had seen her wild mane on the train – had had an apologetic smile (he was happy his little talk of _wear the words that hurt you most like they define you and become your armor_ had paid off) but otherwise she had pointed to some people behind him. Bael had them turned over. Only to realize his cousin stood there.

"What?!" barked Bael in his usual scowling attitude when dealing with his cousin. He began to walk freely, the ponce – and his two cronies – following him.

Draco seemed oddly pleased today, following him like a lost puppy.

"I was asked by my mother to accompany you for the whole train ride." Tersely answered Draco with a smug look. Bael did not pay attention to his cousin and began to change his feature back to "Bael". Gone were the wild black locks, welcomed were the straight chestnut hair.

"Yeah, as if that's ever gonna happen. So on this merry note, I'm off. Get lost somewhere else."

And Bael left. Or tried to.

At the obvious fact he was now in the Slytherin compartment, full of Draco's year mates, Bael wondered how in the seven blazes of Hell he had ended up there. Some stunning spell most definitely. At least he was not bounded, like he had been once when coming back for the Christmas holydays.

"What is wrong with you?" rudely interrupted Bael once he had woken up. The compartment full of students did not expect him to be up and well at this time coming from their surprised face.

"Wow, Mom did say you had a sturdy head." Ignored his cousin, already in his Hogwarts robes, the Slytherin colors proudly displayed.

Bael ticked but did not replied with some hasty insult. He had almost began a confrontation – it was too easy to rile these people. Some well-placed insult about in-breeding and they were all bearing their fangs out. Cute, but not threatening at all – but chose instead to leave. They did not seem to pose any particular opposition anyway. And that put on edge Bael. What was the point then? He knew they used to be friends but ... realization dawned on Bael's face. They must have drawn on his face while he was out-cold!

"Is it true?" came the voice of one Milicent Bulstrode as Bael was reaching for the handle. Suddenly he felt the atmosphere shift with trepidation. He frowned.

"What is true? You'll have to be more precise." Softly returned Bael. No attacking him? Weird. But he could play that game too. If only to see how far they were willing to go.

"The sorting ceremony." Briskly continued the gorilla-like girl, "Draco says he heard from your mother that you were a hair's breath away from being sorted into Slytherin."

Bael stilled and narrowed his eyes. He had not spoken a word about the sorting ceremony to his parents. It was a sore subject for everybody. The fact his mother knew … could she have used Legilimency on him? She was good at it, he knew. But even then … she would not, would she?

 _Yes she would dare to do so_ came the inconspicuous voice of his mind.

"So what if it were true? It does not change the fact I'm a Gryffindor." Answered Bael. The metamorphmagus caught his trunk in the nets above their heads and took his robes to change in later on.

Draco piped up, the only one braved enough it seemed.

"You chose not to be in Slytherin she said. Why?"

Bael was surprised. Was that regret he could hear in his cousin's voice?

"That is not true. If you want the story, the hat asked me whether I wanted to live or to wish. I chose neither. End of story. I didn't ask out loud to be sorted - or not - in a particular House." Snapped Bael, brows furrowed. The wording felt wrong now. He left with a sigh, almost wanting to fight some people. Crabbe and Goyle too had been ready to jump in but they had stopped at Parkinson's hand.

"Whatever. Just ... leave me alone." Finished Bael, meeting the raging eyes of his cousin. But Draco didn't listen and followed him outside, out of the prying ears of the other students.

"Mom worries for you."

"That's none of your business." Lashed out Bael, looking in the other compartments for any signs of his friends, "Between us, I found you lot as obnoxious as granny dearest."

Draco sneered but did not take his bait. He was awfully controlled.

"Out with it, now. You want something from me. You would not have abducted me so obviously."

Draco seemed put out.

"We did not abduct you." Bael glared at him but let his cousin speak, "Here."

Draco handed him a small looking rock.

"Take it. It will let people back home know if you're doing something stupid." Sneered Draco, the emotional moment all but forgotten.

 _I bet those were my father's words. Ha well …_

"Thank you." Dropped Bael, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That almost touched me. Why don't you slither in back to your pit?"

Bael ducked just in time to avoid the spell that left his cousin's wand, barling a laugh just for the shoow. He _was_ very proud of his pun, too. His cousin was an underappreciative brat.

Laughing some more and throwing some hexes – one particularly more nasty than the others – Bael left in a hurry searching for his lost friends. Said friends who must be worried by his absence by now.

"Hey, Bael! We saw you at the station!"

"Your mother is really a charming character, isn't she?"

Here came the twins. Bael glared murderously at them.

"Ouah!" whistled Fred, "easy now Blacky! I'm sure you could kill some people with that look."

Bael rolled his eyes. Fine, time to be playful.

"What brings you in my humble abode?" gestured Bael to the empty alley of the train.

"Looking for Ron. Seen him?"

Bael frowned.

"Nope. I'm looking for him and Nev' and 'Mione. They must be further down."

The twins shrugged their shoulders.

"Dunno. We haven't seen him. Well whatever. Here, take this." Began George, handing him Scabbers, ron's rat.

"Ugh, no. I'm not touching that thing. Sorry mates, but I'm a hundred percent sure it caught a disease or something. See those stupid looking eyes? It can't be healthy." Sputtered Bael hastily.

"Oh, well. Gin, do be so kind as to take him. Promess, we'll owe you one." Countered Fred, really wanting to be out of the rat's sight. He turned back to Bael, "See the deal, we have to drop off these two wonderful firsty here!" Fred continued and showed Bael the two girls behind him, knowing the metamorphmagus had not seen them. Ginny and her friend were whispering and giggling madly at each other.

"They absolutely adore you! Ever since the toilet seat episode …"

"Not true!" shouted the girl now Bael could replace as Maureen potter, Ginny's sidekick.

Bael wisely did not tell he had come upon a ravaged corridor – thank you Peeves – and had just a toilet seat delivered the very next minute. The only hard part had been the capturing Hades event. The evil bird had to be bribed with tons of food.

"Uh … okay. Just come with me if you want to. We just have to find the others." Shrugged Bael when he saw the twins heading off to see Lee – some disheartening story about a giant spider on their lips. "Come on girls, I won't eat you."

Suddenly the rock Draco had given him burnt, searing a large imprint on his hand. Bael swore and dropped the rock, his uniform with it. Without wasting a moment, Bael opened the very next compartment – full of Hufflepuff – apologized for the interruption and opened the window to throw that damnable rock. He was not about to be dictated by a rock.

"Sorry for that" apologized again Bael at the surprised faces of the students around him, "Come on, let's go." he told the girls, eyeing him carefully.

Bael gathered his uniform on the floor and moved up the alley, each time knocking on a door to see if his friend were somewhere near - and ignoring the glances from the two first years behinf him.

"Ah! Hermione!" shouted Bael, finally seeing his friend. He ushered the excited first years in. "Wait, you're alone?"

Hermione was greeting the two girls. She came on Bael and waved him over her.

"Yes. I did not see Ron and Nev' … it kind of worries me too."

Bael cocked an eyebrow.

"Nah, don't worry. They just must have missed the train. Right now, I gather they would have sent a letter to the school and Hagrid or McGonagall is already on their way to bring them back. they wouldn't want the _Chosen One_ to miss school." laughed bael, not seeing the weird glances he was attracting by laughing like a demented person.

"You can be so phlegmatic sometimes … they could have encountered some troubles, you know."

Bael shrugged again.

"Nah. They're not stupid."

Hermione pondered that an instant.

"Right. We both know that's not the truth."

"relax, 'Mione, it's not like they could die or something."

"Your capacity to worry is severely atrophied Bael. Oh and how was your trip down the snake pit?"

Bael struggled not to let an estranged noise leave his mouth. He then went into details about his awful abduction, knowing perfectly well Hermione would see through his embellished facts. Her smile said as much. Quickly, the conversation resumed its course to the two new first years.

"So, which house do you want to be sorted into?" asked genuinely interested Bael

"Gryffindor!" they shouted together, blood rushing to their cheeks in sign of their excitation.

"Haha! I'm sure we'll get on really well together! Do you know how you're sorted?"

"No … can you tell us?" asked Maureen Potter, stars shining in her eyes.

"But of course! See, the first thing is … you have to get into the Castle. It's a full war to get inside. First there's the lake and its giant squid! And then, you have to face giants and then some more creatures of the depths of … OUCH! Hermione!"

Bael had been hit with a book by Hermione.

"Stop sprouting your lies."

"Ok. Stop it!" begged Bael, dodging some unnamed heavy book – which made a _thunk_ noise when it reached the poor wall of the compartment. "I'm gonna tell the truth."

Hermione relented under the two other girl's giggles.

"So, you see, once you're in the Great Hall … you will have to wait to be called by the Under-Headmistress, McGonagall – she's impossible to miss, don't worry - … and then … you'll have to fight a troll in front of everyone!" gushed Bael in his best impersonation of some non-descript black wizard.

The two girls's scream and Bael's voice, not unlike an strangled animal, reached the ears of the unsuspecting neighboring students.

* * *

After that small episode – Bael was still profusely sweating from fear of Hermione's punches, because, damned could she pack a punch – Bael shut his mouth. He simply nodded when asked a question, leaving the story telling of Hogwarts' wonders to Hermione.

"Hey guys … wait up … is that …a flying car? I did not know muggles could do that. I mean, we would have heard about some flying regulations with the brooms and all that stuff …" muttered Bael, eyes wide open.

Hermione swatted his remark.

"Of course they can't. Cars don't fly …"

But her sentence was soon forgotten when Bael pointed her the car. She blinked.

"Oh my … "

"It's dad's car!" shouted Ginny, perched by the window.

"You don't think Ron could have been stupid enough as to take his father's car?" wondered softly Hermione in Bael's shocked ear.

"I … don't know. But that's brilliant!" came his rushed reply, "Come, we can't let them hover or they'll be seen by all the muggles."

" _What do you plan on doing, you little boor!"_ demanded Hermione as she stopped Bael from opening the window.

"Hey! 'Mione, I don't know where you're looking for for your insults, but you seriously need some upgrades. We're not in the middle ages anymore. And then … is it not obvious? I'm going to help them land on the train's roof."

"Right." Dead-panned his friend, "You're completely out of your mind."

But Bael did not listen and took his fine carved black wand in hand and jumped. He had then reached the roof, coming from the slight _Thump_ noises made by his feet. Suddenly, a rope came back by their window.

"Hold that! That's my safety come back!" screamed bael over the wind.

"He's stark mad." Murmured Maureen, Ginny was completely red. Hermione groaned, wand ready in case she needed to heave some of her idiotic friends.

* * *

When Bael reached the roof, rope solidly wrapped around his waist, his first reaction was to whistle at the beautiful landscape in front of his eyes. The sun was strong, enough that the roof's temperature had sky-rocketed to burnt the sole of Bael's shoes.

 _Oh come on … These were new. How am I going to explain that to Mom?_

Bael winced at the imaginary memory. His only regret was not have taken a camera of sorts to capture that dream-like scene. Even the flying blue car seemed to belong to the skies. That very thought brought Bael back from his musings. The blue flying car. Now that he narrowed his eyes a bit – glasses adjusting his eyesight better – he could see the red hair of his best friend.

"What an idiot you are … a brilliant idiot." Admired Bael.

The car in itself was a beautiful art of magic, thought Bael. The combination of spells needed to execute something like this with only the muggle's carburant … a piece of genius. The only damaging detail was the noise. It was hardly nice. The sound emitted by the car were halfway between a pig and an elephant both trying to sing an old song from a French singer. Awful so.

So, now that Bael had seen the car, the hard part came. First of all, he had to make his friends notice him. That in itself would not be complicated. He hardly doubted many students were on the roof at this time. Suddenly, Bael felt some negative waves from behind him and ducked just in time the tunnel like entrance the train had just gone through.

 _I almost had forgotten about the daunted brigde … I think Binn's said something about the dying sentence of the goblins on this very bridge._

Heart hammering hard in his chest, Bael lifted his head once he was sure not to be hit by a potential _bridge-turned-tunnel._ With some massive efforts, Bael signed Ron over. But instead of the red headed boy, it was Neville who answered.

Bael scratched his eyes. And he was the troublemaker … such a shame Neville did not want to follow in his footsteps.

"Alright, guys. Here's the time to see if that fourth year spell book was right … _ACCIO RON'S CAR!"_

To his huge satisfaction, the spell worked wonders. The car was approaching at nice speeds, and stopped just in front of him ever so softly. The muffled cries of the two Gryffindors in the car warmed Bael's heart.

"You're a freaking genius!" shouted Ron still in his seat car.

"Yeah, I know." Boasted Bael, hair billowing in the wind, "I'm awesome. Come on guys, let's hurry back inside."

Astoundingly enough, Neville's voice cut through the silence that had overcome.

"You know .. we're actually feeling quiet safe in the car … perhaps, we'll just stay here for the remaining ride … you know …"

Bael's jaw almost reached the hot train roof.

"That's a joke. Right?"

Again, he was being ignored.

"Ok, continue to pretend you did not hear me … _Incarcerum_." Muttered Bael, a mad glint in his eyes. Ropes left his hand and went around both Ron and Neville. "Stop moving, I could drop you …" threatened Bael, effectively putting a halt to their movements. "No worries guys, I've got it. Se that safety rope. It leads to our compartment. No Nev'! Put your feet out of my face." Glared the metamorphmagus, now sporting a nice foot imprint on his immaculate face. "Did you step on some dragon dung?" muttered the boy, washing his face with the hem of his t-shirt.

Neville did not answer.

Sometime later – that is to say, after a good screaming hour, the three boys were down in the compartment, luggage in hand.

"So …" began awkwardly Ron, shuffling his hair and avoided the pointed glare of his sister, "what do we do for the car?"

"It's gonna follow us." Barked Bael shoving a full bottle of water onto his face to get rid of Neville's foot imprint. "Anyone's got some towel?" he went ignored.

"I went to France, on the Mediterranean beach. It was beau-ti-ful." Said Hermione when everybody was already changed in their uniform. Bael towered over them, reminding Ron of his height with small pattings on the head. People expected a full blown out war soon.

"So cool, Hermione" admired Ron,

"I went with my grandma… dude you would not believe just how old school she is." Belatedly said Neville, trying some chess with Ginny – he was failing too.

Bael snorted.

"I seriously think I can compete with anyone on "old school traditions" mate, no offense."

Neville laughed.

"Yeah, you're probably right. But I mean … she had a hat with this stuffed vulture on …"

"Scary." Muttered Ron.

"Yeah. And then I went to Ron's for two weeks. And you ? You sent us a letter with these two girls on … who were they?"

Bael blinked.

"Oh! Paris! Yeah right. It was awesome guys. Granted it was only for a day but waouh!" Bael's hair had gone to a blinding white color, "it's Al'taïr and Dana. We were on a small trip together … remembering old times, I guess. It was really fun. I ought to take you sometime later. I'm sure you would love them. And their uncle is like sooo fun too. He's the one who taught me the trick to bait my mom.", his smile was contagious.

"But who are they? You never mentioned them before." Asked Ron, stuffing some clothes back in his trunk.

"Yeah, I know … they're …acquaintances. I met them long ago." And the boy stopped at that, a smile still adorning his face. "But if you wanna know, holydays at the manor are boring at best. It was my only escape. I mean ... I can't play only with the tigers. It gets really boring. It's that or eating with the Malfoys and Rosiers. Thank you very much, but I pass. I hate these kind of reunions. It feels like a game for them. You know, the "let's pick on poor little Bael" kind of game." Darkly finished Bael, no doubt reminiscing some eventful dinners.

Neville shuddered. He had forgotten about the Lestranges saber-tooth tigers _and_ nasty get-togethers.

"And can you believe it? My parents thought I was a spy!" continued Bael

All of the students laughed at that remark. Bael was as transparent to them as a window was.

"Oh, by the way, wasn't your mother expecting a child?" asked Hermione suddenly remembering that fact. "She seemed … uhm, at the station, she was …"

Bael's mood soured.

"Fat. Yeah … she's due somewhere in February. Or March, I don't know."

Finally, the conversation ended with the Maurauder's tales Maureen was enraptured in counting. Lulled into some wonderful tales of magic, none of the students realized the train was already at the station, a flowing hundreds of students pouring out of the train's doors.

* * *

 **And here's another chapter.**

 **let's be honest guys, I don't really like that year. I hope you won't feel it too much in my chapters ;)**

 **So, let me know what you've thought of it, leva a fav, a like or a review ^^**

 **See you soon!**


	16. A prank for your thoughts

**Hello guys! Here I am again for a new chapter ^^**

 **Hope you'll like it, it's just a filler**

* * *

 _Chapter 16: A prank for your thoughts_

The Hogwarts Express stopped at Hogsmead station on the 1st September at around 8 o'clock. From the train, hundreds of students fled and came onto the dock. Amongst the milling students, Hagrid could be seen and heard ushering the first year with his torch – it seemed he had exchanged his old lantern in favor of a burning branch. Neville waved to Hagrid – the semi-giant answered with joy before getting back to the students he had to take care of – and followed his friends to the carriage that would be leading them to the Great Hall.

"Hey guys … I think your car is having a fit." Said Hermione pointed to the Anglia Ford on the roof of the train. The invisibility shield of the car was having some serious issues too, going on from the car popping in and out of existence. Slowly, the car even left and headed straight to the Forbidden forest. _On its own._

"Okay. I'm so getting a howler." Cried Ron, paler than ever.

At the very same time, both Maureen and Ginny left the small group to go with their fellow first year. Their own ceremony was awaiting, and they did not plan on being in the teacher's discipline radar.

"Were we ever like these little rascals?" muttered Ron darkly, flipping the finger at his little sister who was in returning just as rude gestures to Ron. Trying to divert his attention, Bael replied completely off-topic.

"Nah, look at that. We were far bigger. They're small brats."

"We were barely taller than them." reminded Neville, precisely pointing to everyone but Bael – he _was_ almost 15 anyways and he was as tall as a frigging tree to him.

"Not true guys." Rushed Ron, trying to find an example, "There! I'm at least three feet taller than that dude." Ron pointed with his wand – it was sparking some dangerous lights that made the students take a step back from the horrendous wand – a dark form on the dock.

"It's a fifth year, Ron. He's in Ravenclaw and he was lacing his shoe." Replied Hermione laughing widely at her friend's face, realizing he was a short boy, even for his age. Neville was taller than him too.

The small group thus departed to the carriage path, all trying to bully Ron. Grunting the boy pouted for a while.

In front of them, a line of students were all waiting for the carriages to come.

"Waouh, look at these beasts." Whistled Bael in a soft tune. "They're absolutely hideous."

Neville sweat-dropped. He too could see the Thestrals, but he really did not know how Bael could make it sound so … well, so monstruous.

"How can you see them?" asked Neville.

Bael blinked.

"What do you mean? Everybody can see them, can't they?"

He looked at Hermione and Ron but the two of them negated with their heads. Neville continued.

"They're Thestrals. They have a sad reputation because in order to see them, you have to see death."

Bael coughed in his hand.

"Anyway, you sure know how to spike the atmosphere." Playfully retorqued the metamorphmagus, "but if you want to know, I saw my grand-father die. A heart-attack, the healer said." Bael frowned, "I think it was poison, personally."

Neville sweat-dropped.

"Yeah, I can imagine your family doing that for some inheritance things."

"Haha, not even close, mate, not even close." He repeated, "That man tried to murder me. he conjured this huge snake once, that swallowed me whole and tried to say to my mother it was just his pet snake." Bael gained a faraway look. "I think this was retribution." he smiiled airily, "And you?"

Neville and Ron shuddered atv the experience while Hermione patted Bael on the shoulder.

"A great-uncle. Actually, he passed in his sleep. One night he was well, and the next morning he never woke up. Nothing too traumatizing."

"You're almost lucky guys … My great-aunt Muriel just would not leave like that. I'm almost sure the day she dies, it will be with some sparks and lightnings. For some reasons, she has this strange fascination of fires too …dad reckons not to be in her vicinity for too long." Shuddered Ron.

"Whatever, boys. Let's take the next carriage." Ushered Hermione, vaguely at unease. "All this talk about death … come on it's a new school year with no Voldemort ahead of us!"

The three boys shuddered at the name.

"Don't pronounce the Dark Lord's name." hissed Bael softly. Fortunately, none of his friends commented more on that, either they had not heard or did not want to enter a conversation with him on his aversion to the name - or adoration according to Ron.

The trip to the Castle was actually quiet enjoyable. Since no rain was on the horizon, the fresh summer breeze was blowing softly, creating a dreamy atmosphere. Perhaps, the highlight of the trip to the Castle was once they had entered the park. Neville could have sworn he had just seen some Slytherin students being drenched in water by the Castle mischievous streak.

"hey, Ron, mate. Ready for our next grand adventure?"

"What, now?" wondered Ron, leaving the carriage like all the other students.

"You bet my friend! Come on, let's hurry!"

Bael shook Ron's shoulder and left with him, leaving Hermione and Neville stuck on their places.

"It's not even the official beginning of the year." Lamented both Gryffindors, the two of them saving a seat for their friends at the Great table.

* * *

On their part, Bael was in the middle of his explanation.

"So, you see. There are two things we need to do. But we'll have to split. One of them is to find the Common rooms and finish by the Slytherin Common Room and put this" Bael took out from his robes a small rock, "in their fireplace. It's a part of the Castle, given to me last time. It will allow the Castle to morph their common room like ours. We don't have to be the only ones suffering!" raged Bael. Ron clapped, remembering some tough mornings in a sandstorm.

"Yeah. I'm not doing that. Sorry mate but Snape must be hiding somewhere near that awful place, also known as the pit. And I don't know the Ravenclaw's common room location."

"You know, it's actually a nice place. Anyway, I'll do it. Your job will be to wait by the Black Lake and rouse the giant squid. From there, I'll join you – there's a secret passageway leading from the Slytherin common room to the lake. It shall be easy. Just, don't anger too much the squid. I think he's still a bit sore from last year."

Ron nodded.

"So, we're just scaring a bit the first-years …"

"See that as a grand show of magic. Remember when we first came here? What do you think it would have been like to see the giant squid?"

Ron aptly remembered that he had seen it sometime later when Bael had decided to reduce the poor huge fish of sorts and leave him in the Great Hall – in an aquarium of course.

"I suppose it would have been grandiose. Any fireworks? It would give so much more cachet ..."

Bael shrugged.

"Just send them from your wand."

Ron glared at the white tip of his wand wondering if he would be able to make it work this year.

"Yeah. Ok. Let's do that. See you later mate!"

And there, the two acolytes left the other, each on a mission to greet the firsties.

"To each his battle." Claimed strongly Bael rushing up the stairs while Ron left for the park, avoiding all the students who came in.

* * *

Ron gulped. Why had he accepted Bael's challenge again? Ah, right. To some merry memories, he had said. Nonetheless, Ron went near the Black lake, protected by some of the shivering wall of the Castle. It appeared the entity was helping him tonight. All the much better. Now, to go and speak the squid … Bael had used a translation rune last time to discuss with the creatures inside. Ron shuddered and went knee-deep in the lake. He took out the flute Hagrid had once given them to lull some monsters. Time to use it, he guessed, clutching in his other hand the rune Bael had carved. Perhaps, he could even talk a bit with the Squid.

* * *

On his part, Bael thought himself lucky. The squid had actually looked murderous the last time he had went to see him (the prank had not gone too well for the poor sea-creature bael imagined). He only liked Ron, going from the way its tentacles had once tried to kidnap his friend when they were relaxing by the shore. Ron still felt violated to this day, but Bael counted his lucky stars for tonight. He liked too much entertainment not to.

Swiftly, the young Gryffindor went past the armors leading to the Ravenclaw common room and stopped right in front of an eagle insigna.

"Come on, Hoggy dearest … we buried the hatchet … do open the door…" sing-sung Bael in an angelic voice. Fortunately, the Castle – whose name was Hoggy apparently – listened to him and opened the common room door.

Bael smiled his megawatt smile and stepped inside. Barely paying attention to the huge bust of Rowena Ravenclaw, he threw the rock in the fireplace, waiting only for the first signs of magic alteration of the Castle. Soon enough, a nice looking lake had appeared in the common room, much to the young student's joy. Thus, Bael left incognito for the Hufflepuff one. There, he repeated again his actions – this time a thunderstorm was created – even Bael cringed at the smothering pile of what was once some nice parchments. The Hufflepuff Common room was the closest to the Great hall, thus making his small stunt to reach the Slytherin common room all the more difficult. Breathing deeply, Bael still managed to go past the Hall without attracting attention to him. But he did see Snape missing from the High Table.

Cursing his luck, Bael prayed for not encountering him in the halls. He was sure the Castle would help him, but it still was not good for his heart to be hunted by the greasy professor at the very beginning of the year. Really. Even Healer Schiller said he would die from one of his mischief.

But Bael continued his steps towards the dungeons. He knew this part by heart. Ever since he was a kid, his parents had described these corridors countless times. Even the broom closets were at the exact place Rabastan had said they were. Bael wisely gave them a wide berth - he wasn't touching those with a ten feet pole.

The point being, they had said it was a lively place. He could certainly believe that. The corridors only needed some more lights but overall … the boy advanced toward the tapestry and casually hissed the password.

"Pureblood."

The tapestry behind him shivered. Bael shrugged smug. Honestly, Slytherins were so predictable, it was almost an insult. At least, Gryffindor passwords were completely random. The last one had been _Aloe Vera_.

Casually streaking past the soft green sofa, Bael placed his last rock in the fireplace and admired the common room slowly changing to a huge soap floor. People were sure to fall. Bael took particular caution not to fall too – he would not ever admit it to Ron – and reached the bust of Salazar Slytherin looking at him with disapproval. Bael could not care less. He merely turned the bust exactly 34 degrees east – even that had been obvious had thought Bael, this was the very location of the Common Room in the old wizarding mapping system – to let apparate an odd door, which he took. Here came the weird sensation. That door led to a small tunnel which in turn rushed him outside.

In the Black lake.

Fortunately, Slytherin or the Castle had thought about that hindrance and created a current to hurry whichever student up to the surface in the blink of an eye.

Bael grinned once his head reached the air, never mind his wet uniform. He paddled to the shore where he met a just as wet Ron.

"The encounter with the squid went well, I imagine?" asked grinning Bael. Ron glowered at him but his smug look told him all he needed to.

"Did you know the squid – his name is Alex by the way – found a female and was telling me how he was trying to court her."

Bael looked at his friend weirdly.

"Ah. You used the rune. Ok; No trouble. Hum… you met the female?"

"Haha, no. Apparently she's a bit violent he said."

Bael shuddered.

"Basically, he met a kraken. Nice." Murmured Bael, leading Ron closer to the Castle's entrance, "You put on some fireworks?"

Ron nodded.

"Yep. They should go off once Hagrid sets foot on the shore. That way the other will still be in their boat and Alex will make his grand appearance."

Bael high-fived his best friend. That was some great last minute planning detail. Now, all they had to do was to come back to their seats unknown. Only issue, Snape.

"Yeah, I know. He was in park." Muttered Ron, "the Castle tripped him though, so it's our only chance. Perhaps, you could ask the Castle for some tunnel under the table …"

"That could work …" whispered knowingly Bael.

The two boys just did that and left to meet back their friends.

* * *

"What are these two goons are doing?" wondered Neville, intently looking at Crabbe and Goyle. The two boys seemed to be struggling to just breathe.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table just in front of him, Hermione turned back to see the sight. She coughed to hide her laugh.

"Who knows? They don't have a human brain capacity I say. I reckon what we see is their way of communication."

"I thought they grunted." Admired Neville still looking at the two boys.

"They're evolving, obviously .." countered Hermione just as endeared into watching the two boys.

Suddenly, they felt something touching their feet. Stepping back as far as they could the two friends almost shouted. A hand had reached for the bench.

"Finally!" came the familiar voice of their metamorphmagus friend. A head soon followed the hand and then helped Ron to get out too. The two of them were completely drenched but grinning widely.

"Hermione, Nev', fancy seeing you there." Waved Ron, crossing the table to take place next to Hermione, while Bael took his seat next to Neville. The said boy sighed.

"Your small exploration went well? No suspicious professor?"

"Nope." Popped Ron, "Well, I did see Snape being plundered into the park's floor but it was not my fault."

"Why are you even wet?" resigned hermione, slowly putting a small gap between her and Ron. She did not want to get wet too.

"Went into the lake to prepare a surprise for the first years. The Squid, Alex, and I talked a bit. But you'll see what I mean. Even the Castle opened the windows for us to see the first years. It shall be grand!" explained Ron asking soon afterwards for some seventh year student a drying spell.

"Yeah, and I took some liberties with the Castle. That way, we won't be the only ones suffering in our common room by the Castle's ire." Mocked Bael, "I think the Castle does not really like the Hufflepuffs. When I left, a thunderstorm was reducing to ash some stuff."

The Gryffindor near Bael sweat-dropped. All of them remembering a day when a thunderstorm had actually struck in their own common room. Some ingenious student had installed a steel bar to attract the thunderbolts, but some poor ones had to be taken to the infirmary, literally shocked and with drizzling hair.

"Anyway guys." Returned Ron all dried up, "I was thinking about this Marauder story. Should we not try to become Animagus too?"

Bael enthousiastic nod told Neville the boy had already put some research into this topic. Hermione scandalized voice shifted the mood.

"Guys, first it's forbidden by the Ministry. Don't look at me like that Bael."

"'Mione, you do realize there must be 80% of the wizarding World who's not following the Ministry rules. Like … witches should not even have the right to wear pants or speak at Wizengamot. See. No one cares anymore."

But Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Let's forget about the misogynic system of the Wizarding world for a striking second, would you."

"We're not mysogins." Began Bael in defense of his beloved country, but under the withering stare of his female friend, Bael shut up.

"As I was saying, it's forbidden. And it's hard. And dangerous. Imagine an incident where you can't revert back to normal. And lastly, can you even shift into an animal fully?" asked the witch to Bael, "Sometimes you already imitate some features … like tiger eyes."

Bael waved.

"yeah, but it's just some features. And even now, with the troll blood aspersing my eyes, I can't gain a full sight. Need the glasses … So to answer you, yes I do have an Animagus form."

Hermione hummed.

"I still think it's dangerous."

"But we can ask for Sirius or James for some tips …" countered Ron. "hey look, you don't want to miss it."

The red head pointed to the small boats lighted by torches coming up. McGonagall was already waiting at the entrance Hall for her new year speech – she sent a withering glare toward Bael and his soaked uniform, no doubt suspecting some mischief, on her way to the door.

Eventually, as Ron had predicted, once Hagrid set foot on the park, huge sparks exploded high in the air under the admirating students. And just after that, a jumping squid was seen in the lake, immersing with a huge wave the small first years. All of them were spluttering under the fright of the huge beast - and being drenched in cold water, but all had their jaws opened. Even in the great hall, some whispers were already coursing through the room.

"And that, my friend, is how you do the things here." Boasted Ron around his slacked-jawed friend.

But Hermione pointed to the giant tentacles piercing the lake's surface.

"Was that part of your plan?" timidly wondered aloud Neville.

Because off in the distance, the giant squid was seen struggling into some fiercer tentacles.

"Isn't it the female Alex was talking about?" whined Bael before popping a vein and laughing hard enough he was crying. Ron followed his suit, and the two friends were seen as crazier than before.

"Ohoh, wait until they come back to their common rooms …" cried in between breaths Bael before going into another fit with Ron. But their laughs was contagious and soon Neville found himself grinning from his two friend's antics.

"The Ceremony is about to begin!" McGonagall's voice was heard through the doors, thus shedding a beautiful silence into the halls. The noise of the faraway squid almost forgotten.

Soon enough, a small troup of soaked students tumbled through.

"Hey, I bet that speech about first appearance must have scared them … all of them are ruined." muttered Neville to Ron who nodded. He remembered a stressed time being at their place.

Very quickly, McGonagall placed the sorting hat on a stool and called forth the new students. She glared each time at the imprints of water left on the floor, no doubt thinking about Filch and his dark mutterings of ungrateful brats. The ceremony went fast thought Neville. There were not many students in the hall, thus cutting the time short. Good naturedly, Neville clapped for each student and their sorting, even if he stopped for an arrogant looking one – was he Malfoy's double? Things were going to be interesting in the common room, seeing as that boy got sorted in Slytherin too. Perhaps they would kill each other with their never-ending pride.

"Potter, Maureen!" cried out the transfiguration teacher.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the sorted Hat after a short time. The girl seemed white-faced but otherwise happy. She hurried down the lions table, her robes shifting from black to bloody red.

"What's wrong?" asked Bael the girl when he saw her doubtful face.

"It's just something the hat said …"

"Don't worry then. That old thing has a knack for ranting too much, if you want my humble advice."

The girl let out a small smile.

"Whatever you say. It seemed weird. He just said I was as hot-headed as my brother."

Bael thought intently.

"Brother? The small rascal I saw at the dock?"

"What are you saying about Matthew?" warned protectively Maureen, "He's a cute little metamorphmagus." She humphed.

"So what's the big deal?" interrupted Ron before Bael could go into full mode "metamorphmagus aren't cute" pouting.

Maureen turned to him.

"The hat kind of mentioned a big bro …" she whispered, "I'll have to send a letter to my parents, guess."

 _You're a traitor! Shouted somebody, a child._

" _You're a blood traitor, who cares." Spat Bael when he heard the voices approach._

Bael suddenly had a rush of blood, his heart was hammering quickly in his chest. He knew these voices and worst of all, bad memories were rushing back. Harry Potter, the green-eyed and misbehaved child he had met back when he was ... a right pureblood.

Hermione saw his reaction and cocked an eyebrow. Bael mimed her the "later" kind of gesture. Unfortunately, it was seen by Maureen.

"Spill." She merely said, eyes narrowing

Bael was guilt-tripped. He chose to tell a half-truth.

"See, I think he was talking about Harry."

Maureen blinked.

"Who?"

"Harry." Repeated Bael. "His name appears on the genealogy book."

"How … can you remember that?"

Bael flushed, not from the gratification but from shame.

"I do have a hazarding hobby of remembering family trees. It's fun."

Neville snorted as he clapped for some other non-descript student. Only Bael would find ancestry cool.

"So … I have a big brother named Harry."

"yeah … he was reported MIA on the great Attack night." Cringed Bael.

Maureen frowned but thanked him.

"I'll ask Mom and Dad …"

Fortunately, the joyous atmosphere came back quickly. Tonight was just too magical for the students not to have fun.

"And then, my mother made the cake explode!" explained Dean, entertaining a crowd of students, "Dad said it was the mood swings …"

Bael and Ron laughed.

"Yeah, let me tell you, mate, food cravings are the worst." Muttered Bael, "My mom asked for strawberry filled mongoose, smashed with vinegar potatoes. That was the worst lunch ever." Spasmed Bael.

Dean whistled.

"Did she try to poison you or something?"

"It sure looked like it. I tasted it because … well you know, she was looking at me with those burning eyes. And I almost sputtered. And then dad stunned Mom before she could eat too. That could have been a fun duel to watch if I was not crouched on the floor …" finished Bael with false tears streaking down his face.

Dean was laughing hard.

"Hahaha. Really, your family never ceases to amaze me." Finished the boy.

"Shut it guys! It's Ginny's turn." Gushed Ron, suddenly focused on the ceremony.

Not surprising, the small Weasley was sent to Gryffindor without sparing a second. She was applauded loudly by her brothers and Neville, which made the small witch all the happier. She joined Maureen on the table and the two began to gush about their boat companions.

The silence came back when Dumbledore heaved his goblet and wished every student a good dinner. The new DADA professor presentation was spent in relative silence – a small smile from that idiot wizard had thought Neville, on the verge of crying. Unsurprisingly, Ron and Bael rushed to the buffet and saved a good pile of food on their plates. In a typical caveman fashion, Bael even took the whole plate of lemon pie with him. Neville rolled his eyes at their antics, knowing the food would actually be left in their dormitories. At least whenever he was angry outside of eating hours, Neville knew he could always take some on the never-ending pile of fruits of his two friends. A small reserve, they had said, in case of siege in the dorm.

Slowly though, as the four friends were leaving the table to go to their common room, they began to talk about their new professor. Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Did you see that buffoon?" harshly said Neville, "I thought he was kidding or something when he said he was going to teach here!"

"It was predictable … all the DADA books were his. And at least, now, we do know he is a self centered righteous git." Yawned Ron

"Oh, did you read them? The books I mean?" asked Hermione, "They're absolutely fascinating!" she finished with a dreamy gaze. The three boys looked at he as if she had suddenly grown a second head, especially when she began to talk about the wonders of the professor.

"He bewitched all the girls." Whispered Ron, "My mom had the same face when we went to take the books."

"Yeah … only the weakest fall to his charms. My mom spat on his books." Boasted Bael, making Neville cough something that remarkedly looked like _your mother's not human anyway._

"Hey, what did he want with you that day in the book store?" asked Ron, ignoring the gloating Bael desecrating Lockhart's glory with some more words of his choosing.

Neville shuddered. He hated that day.

"Yeah … he seemed convinced we should share our celebrity. … he tried to make me sign some copies and give autographs."

"Feeling alright there? Nev'?" Ron agitated his hand in front of his friend's face.

"Haaa, I hate him already." Weakly said the Chosen one on a defeating heave. "Ron, help me or I'm going to throw up if I ever think of him some more."

Bael jumped.

"Not sure we can do something for that mate."

"Think of your grandma and her stuffed vulture." Tried Ron

Neville pale some more.

"Ugh, no. I'm no feeling good at all."

"Snape?" finished him off Ron.

Neville left for the toilets in a hurry. Behind him Ron and Bael were having a self-improved dance.

"Don't you have emetophobia or something?" muttered Hermione to Bael who sobered in a fraction of second.

"When did I ever tell you that?" his high pitched voice told some of the fear he was feeling, "Hermione, it's scary how much you know about me. Soon, you'll even know my houses passage secrets."

Ron snorted.

"I doubt it. Hermione's a muggle-born. She's not gonna be in the vicinity of your crazy family. Now stop squirming, and do tell me about that fear of puking …" grinned Ron with an arm clamped on his friend back.

"I won't tell a thing."

"Let's try again. Neville is puking a mere hundred meters away. Do you want to visit him?"

Bael's spirit could be seen leaving his body, a conquered Ron stepping on his friend in the middle of the corridors leading to the gryffindor common room.

But all lights were soon to extinguish. Professor McGonagall came into the common room to ask that everyone go to bed.

"Weasley and Black!" McGonagall barked in the midst of the crowd, "Not you Miss Weasley, your brothers. Yes, all three of them. Not you." She barked at Percy.

Ginny climbed back to her room with Maureen and two other girls of her year, while her three brothers came slowly from every corner of the room. Bael, he stood straight as an i, in a perfect imitation of Professor Snape. Soon there were only the four boys in the middle of the room with their transfiguration teacher.

"Mr. Black, stop your childishness and resume a correct appearance," said the old witch dryly, while Bael immediately changed his face to become Baelfyre Black again.

"Well, now who of you four did this ... joke ... during the feast tonight?"

The professor's nostrils seemed to throw lightning bolts and her lips had disappeared by stretching them. Obviously the teacher was angry. And with her red and rectangular glasses, the professor seemed more furious than ever. Every second that passed without anyone making the slightest gesture seemed to make the witch a little more upset.

"I would not hesitate to put you all year-round in detention if none of you decide to design the culprit." The professor's voice was so low that one had to listen carefully to distinguish the words.

While Bael was expecting the three Weasleys to denounce him, to his surprise this was not the case.

"It's very chivalrous on your part to want to protect your comrades ... or your family," she shot the twins a glare, "But it's very useless. Now I want the little brain behind this joke right away or in addition to detention I will give you homework to do every night. And no more Quidditch." she added as an afterthought.

"What! But professor, you can not ... it's Quidditch! "

"It was me." Bael suddenly confessed, knowing what Quidditch meant for his friends.

"Bael! No, it was me, Professor." Said Ron

"No, it was us! We admit to everything! Even the red toilets!" cried the twins

The lips of the Gryffindor director trembled.

"Mr. Black and Weasley, so ... I award 20 points to Gryffindor for just stunning magic for a second year. And I add 1 point to each of you for the loyalty you show to your friends. "

The four boys did not believe it. Hogwarts toughest teacher with Snape had just given them points, even before classes began! Naturally, none of the four boys could think rationally for the few seconds that followed, from which only one could ask:

"And the Quidditch ...?"

Professor McGonagall's exasperation behind her next words was thorough: "Yes, Mr. Weasley, you can continue. Now, to bed!"

And the headmistress left the common room under the disillusioned looks of the four boys.

"What happened there?"

"Bael I adore you. "

* * *

 **So yeah ... it's a bit of a filler chapter, with pranks and little memories here and there ^^**

 **Anyway, see you on Sunday for the next chapter**

 **Don't forger to favorite, put a like or a review :)**


	17. Lockhart, that niffler

**Wow! This story gets more and more views and reviews ^^**

 **Well, I'm happy for the feedback, the favs ad reviews, it got me hyped up to post sooner than I intended :)**

 **Also, if you have a question, just ask them, or PM me.**

 **Just to clarify myself a little bit : Bael is not Harry. You'll see him very soon too. I'd say in around 10 chapters. Parhaps a bit later, depending on how much I write for a chapter.**

 **Anyway, on with the story!**

* * *

 _Chapter 17: Lockhart, that niffler_

Life at Hogwarts was never dull.

Already on the day after the sorting ceremony, all students received their schedules in the Great Hall - with more or less satisfaction - and the second-year students were heard lamenting once again (they began on Monday morning with a double course of potions and they continued with transfiguration and charms). But nothing could be done, and Gryffindor's second-year students slowly headed for the dungeons. Even Hermione did not seem in a hurry to go to class for the first time since her three friends knew her. On the way, the conversation stilled on the points McGonagall had distributed the day before. Indeed the Gryffindor hourglass was the only one to be filled and seeing the reaction of the Slytherins that morning had Worth a thousand détentions with Snape, according to Bael and Maureen. But the day could not end so nicely. Potions were awaiting the group.

After reaching the dungeons, the Gryffondors fell silent and apprehended the door opening. Everyone was aware that Professor Snape did not particularly like Gryffondors, but he seemed to be more focused on Neville and Bael than on all the others. All also knew the course would be even worse if they were mixed up with the Slytherins. And as a misfortune never happens alone, the Gryffondors found with heartbreaks that they shared the Monday morning potion course with the Slytherins this year too. A tradition many found heartbreaking in its tenacity.

The dungeon door opened on the fly, leaving in its frame the black figure of the potions master. All the students entered in a silence that could have made death itself jealous.

After a brief look at Bael, Snape spoke.

"This year again, I will have to teach you the art of potions. It is needless to say that a band of pickles like won't have nearly enough intelligence to understanf a third of the words I will say. Therefore I will endeavor to dispense my courses to the smartest of you little wand-weaving baboons. The art of admiring a potion that bubbles gently and lets out a volute capable of bewitching your senses is obviously not your forte. So this is why this year, if you want to pass my class I will demand the best of you. Any fault in doing so could ... make you simply disappear from the surface of reality." Snape's sweet voice reached the ears second-years.

As he stroked a jar, he cast a disdainful glance toward Neville, who in turn tried to make himself very scarce. The professor took his wand and swished it, sneering at Neville's position. Inscriptions appeared on the blackboard, leaving the students reeling. They tried to figure out what recipe it was, but no one seemed to have the answer.

"Longbottom!" What are you going to prepare today? "

"Um ... a potion sir" hesitated Neville

"Of course! You are in my class! Black, answer and enlighten your comrades. »

But Bael did not seem to know the answer either. His face looked unblinkingly at the blackboard, perhaps shocked at the inscriptions. Snape showed a few of his teeth, waiting for an answer that would never come.

"10 points from Gryffindor for not having opened a book this whole summer." almost sung the professor, ignoring the withering glare of his students, "Perhaps, Mr Malfoy could enlighten us."

If Draco Malfoy could have appeared more self-important than now, Neville was sure he would have imploded.

"It's a shrinking potion!" suddenly cried out Bael, not having listened to a word of the class. He cut-off his cousin - who somehow looked pensived at the answer. Bael grinned widly before his smile dimmed when he faced his teacher. "It wasn't my turn to talk, was it?" he asked uncertainly.

Snape's glare could have frozen fires.

"Get. Out." slowly articulated the professor.

Bael didn't ask for a repeat. He left in a hurry and a sheepish smile.

"And 5 points for your insolence, Black." harshly gritted Snape as the door to the dungeons closed.

The silence in the classroom was heavy.

"Well ! What are you waiting for? Those who will not finish their potion today will end up with a T! " barked the potions mster in a whirl-wind of dark robes. Immediately the class came into action.

* * *

After an hour the whole dungeon smelled of smoke. Snape, passed by in the Gryffondor's ranks and was particularly busy on poor Neville. The poor wizard was only trembling when the potions master was bent over his cauldron and watched it meticulously. Finally, Snape decided to remove some points for "obvious blunder" and literally finished Neville with the his slight demured speech pattern. The poor boy had tried his best.

"Longbottom! Orange! Why is your potion orange and not blue like your peers? You do not know ? Very well, when you finish your potion, we will use a drop of it on your toad ... "

Neville trembled even more. He knew he was making some sort of poison and that his poor toad was going to suffer the consequences of his clumsiness. He would become … a Toad-killer.

Then, not content with apparently terrorizing just Neville, Snape leaned over Ron's cauldron.

"Weasley! Glasses on the rim of your table? Next to your roots! You do know the rules … don't you?" Snape barked almost in the student's ear.

"Uh, these aren't mine! They're Bael's!"

"10 points from Gryffindor for thughtless thieving then!" barked Snape, "Malfoy will see to it that his cousin recover his possession."

Ron swallowed hard. And Snape left.

* * *

The dungeons doors slammed opened on reddish and irritated Gryffindors. Bael was casually waiting fo his friends by the door, scribbling in his booknote. He frowned at his house mates faces but refrained from asking what had happened. he already knew wht they would answer. He did thanx draco for the glasses though ( Bael had eyed them suspiciously for some dubious spells, but they had looked pristine).

"How dared he ?! I even made a perfect potion today!" raged Ron, redder than his hair.

"I know, Hermione too ... And the bat took 5 points for helping Neville" Added Seamus soothingly.

"I could tell my mother. That ought to calm him down. She's volatile at best these days." whispered conspirationly Bael to his friends.

"Your mother's not a weapon." Admonished Hermione, but when she saw her three friends interrogating stares, she gave up.

But nothing calmed the Gryffindors, and they went in transfiguration all with pent up frustration. Again, not surprisingly, the professor was very strict and warned the students once more of the rigor that was necessary to be able to continue the courses.

"Transfiguration this year will be made up of more complicated metamorphoses than the previous year, of course. Thus, we will begin to study the more complex vertebrate animals, starting with the roosters and finishing for the most gifted of you by the Pocket dragons. This class is hard, spells will be potentially lethal, so I expect the best out of each and every one of you. No less will be tolerated. Any ruckus, and you can leave and never come back" and the professor stared intently Dean, who swallowed with difficulty.

Following her words, the lesson proved the words of the witch and showed the difficulty of the spells. Bael and Hermione had to go to three and four times respectively in order to succeed. The Gryffindor teacher was none the less delighted and bestowed 5 points to each of two students, soothing Bael who thought only to strangle a potions professor.

Night however came very quickly and all the students were exhausted. Ron was already complaining about the mass of homework they had to do and Hermione was already at a desk, working. Neville took refugee behind Bael, intending to prevent any pranks from the common room. The Castle was in a humorous streak if the sour looks on the other houses students had been any indications. Neville knew it was Bael's result of his last minute prank, but he was still irked at the sheer ease his friend could slip in and out of the teacher's radar because he was the Castle's favorite. Talk about unfairness.

* * *

The week passed quickly and the most significant event was on Wednesday when the second-year Gryffindor students had Defense Against the Dark Arts. With the new professor.

Already, a rumor circulated among the students about Lockhart's pathetic and dismal classes. Another rumor had it that he was great. Ron leaned toward the first rumor but Hermione seemed shocked by it.

"This is necessarily a qualified teacher. After Quirrel, Dumbledore could not have hired a "charlatan" as you said. He will be there for more than a year, he said so himself." she humphed, still adoring the professor.

"But Hermione, this place is cursed since You-Know-Who was denied the place! No teacher has held more than a year because of that damn curse and it's been almost 50 years since then. Even after his defeat, the post remained cursed ... it's normal that nobody wants to volunteer. It's almost a suicide mission to become a DADA teacher. It would not surprise me that Lockhart was the only one to run for the position this year." Ron said in a rare lucid speech at the table.

Neville and Bael nodded, pointing to Hermione and giving unwavering support to their male friend.

Finally, lunch passed, and students rushed to the greenhouses. Neville and Hermione were in the lead and going at full speed in the corridors under the Hermione's invective. They were almost late already (Ron had wanted to eat another dessert).

But on the way, Neville ran into a first year who obviously came out of greenhouses. While Neville was apologizing profusely and Ron and Hermione helped the poor fallen student to rise, Bael picked up a camera.

"What is it that thing?"

"It's my magic camera!" Exclaimed alarmed the first year they had picked from the floor.

"OK. Don't cry like that. Here." Bael handed the device to the fragile student, a little bit surprised at the reaction. He was not a monster.

"Thanks," said the first year, all red. "My name is Colin Creevey. I love pictures." Then he looked at Neville in adoration," Can I take a picture of you? And can you sign it for me? I could show it to my brother then!" he asked in excitation.

"But, really, no, I … uuh, have something to do ..." trailed Neville awkwardly

Suddenly, the Professor Lockhart appeared out of thin air, right on time to see Neville, a cma and a fan-boy. Neville's eyes grew three sizes Under Ron's laugher and Bael's gross noises as they watched Lockhart's smile give way to mini sun. Unfortunately, all his efforts to avoid the infernal professor could not spare him a conversation with the wizard.

"Ah! Neville Longbottom! I see you are signing pictures, already! I think you're a little young for that, but I will giv you my insightful tips on how to futher your celebrity! First of all, calm down. You Always must appear on your best profile. Go on, boy, take that picture." gestured the professor to the awed first-year.

"I'm not sure I understood everything ... Did that just happen? " wondered Bael as he watched the teacher and Colin leave in a heap.

"Me neither, mate ..."

"It is completely mad, if you ask me"

"Ron!"

"What? That's the truth! he's a complete loony! ... I really am not looking forward DADA now."

"Say what Ron." muttered Bael, grinned adly.

"What?" repeated dumbly the Ginger head while poking Neville's shoulders.

"I just found Quirrel's replacement!" yelled Bael's exitedly

"Hurry up you'll be late now for Herbology!" muttered Hermione, eyes darkening at Bael's and Ron's mutterings.

"Yes Hermione," Ron replied, Bael and him running towards the greenhouses. Hermione and Neville joined them gasping for breath, just in time for the lessons.

* * *

Soon after, the bell rang and the students of the greenhouse # 2 were released, sweating and tired beyond belief.

"So what did you think of that murderous looking plant?" Ron yelled at Neville, trying to ake himself understand.

"It was great! You saw the mandrakes? They are all small and already their cry is deafening" roared Neville back, entranced into his own world.

Hermione and Bael touched their ears as if to check they were still there, Following after their friends.

"I bleed ... it's over I'm bleeding." whined the boy, "My ers are bleeding!" he cried out "I can't ear anything!"

"What? What did you say? I can not hear you very well!" Hermione asked.

"I am slowly dying!" Exclaimed disproportionately Bael to Hermione.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as if to say _well, Nothing new here._ Bael was heartbroken and cried false tears abundantly, managing to make Hermione carck a smile at his antics. Eventually Hermione stopped her path just outside the door of the DADA classroom. There, she waited a moment, her friends leaving her as she entered the room. She chose a place on the front ranks, while she waited for her friends to come. Not surprisingly, Bael and Ron were lagging behind, probably talking about their future shenanigans in the common room, or more like screaming them considering their ears were still partially dead (they did not even apologized for their tardiness to the teacher who stood on the stairs of the room with a dazzling smile). Just before the defense classes could begin (Lockhart slowly descended the stairs under the admiring glances of the girls), Neville arrived.

"Ah, my boy, come on! I won't blame you ... Between celebrities, I can understand" and Lockhart smiled a smile too bright to be true. Neville flushed and stammered painfully.

"Professor Sprout had detained me for the mandrakes ..." he whispered to Hermione in an apology of sorts.

Hermione nodded and invited him to sit right next to her on the front row with a small smile while the professor swept his hand in his hair while admiring his reflection in a passing mirror. Or in the posters he had had the gall to proudly display on the classroom's walls. Neville looked at the place and cast a quick glance around. He saw Ron and Bael in a fascinating conversation, obviously interested Gryffindors all around them. For a brief moment, Neville shuddered at the shenanigans of his two friends. The common room was not going to be safe tonight.

Last year with Quirrell, they all had been in a small room that reeked of onion and looked like some sort of cave. Here, however, instead of ending up on the first floor, they were on the second floor, so to access the room, endless stairs were needed. And in the fateful room, nothing seemed to match what one would think of a defense against the dark arts professor.

Professor Lockhart had decorated his room with a thousand magical pictures that moved, all representing him. Neville twitched when he heard someone mumbled a quick _so what kind of horrendous creature are those posters supposed to represent?_

"Good day, dear students. I will introduce myself for those of you who don't know me yet, I'm your new teacher of defense against the dark arts. In case you do not know my name, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, am the 5 times winner of the most beautiful smile from Witch Weekly. But you probably know that already." the professor smiled.

Nobody seemed to move. But that did not disconcert the Professor in the least.

"Well, I see that you all bought my books! What perfect students you make already! It's marvelous! I'll make you a short questionnaire to know if you read it, of course. It will be quick, do not worry. Just enough to assess you." He said with a dazzling smile. He raised his wand and thick pink slips rose up and laid on the table of each student.

"quick, my ass … " muttered Ron, before hiding down the table to dodge a paper ball thrown by none other than a spell-bound witch.

"This thing is the size of one of his books" muttered Bael, eyeing the pinks sheets the professor was distrinuting.

"Who even read the books?" asked another student admist the mutterings.

Hermione and a few other girls blushed to the unfriendly comment. Finally, Neville turned his eyes to his own slip and opened the pages. He lingered on the first few questions and almost choked. He then spent the following time trying to see if he could even answer some questions. Apparently he was not the only one to be indignant of the questionnaire. Neville had heard Bael and Ron roaring some insults but nothing could be done. The questionnaire was no DADA test. It was a biography test.

"What is that … some kind of history test?" muttered Neville, glaring at his slip of paper.

"Come on, dear students. Complete the survey as best you can. Of course, you can leave gaps, I would not blame you. Nobody is omni-potent." came the over enthousiastic tone of Lockhart.

Neville turned his attention to the questions and finally filled them with disgust.

 _Which country is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite?_

 _What is the favorite color of Gilderoy Lochart?_

 _In, I the Magician, how extraordinary is Gilderoy Lockhart?_

 _With which tools Gilderoy Lockhart terrassed a dragon?_

 _How does Gilderoy Lockhart kill a wild werewolf?_

 _Where does Gilderoy Lockhart encounters a Yeti in his travels?_

 _..._

Questions after questions, Neville read them all. And not one seemed bent on defense against the dark arts. No, all questions were related to the teacher. Neville found even a question – n°103 - which socks are Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite? What kind of oaf could be bothered to ask these questions to his students?

"It's alarming," Ron whispered, "Who can answer these questions anyway?"

Hermione took great care not to cross Ron's eyes at that moment.

"Thou hast answered these! All of them! Hermione!" Cried softly Neville in a resigned tone. With a bit of drama - and Neville blamed Bael's influence here.

But Hermione pretended not to have heard him. Meanwhile Bael filled his questionnaire at full speed while laughing maniacally. Finally the ordeal was over and the teacher went scooping all copies. He put them on his desk and took a small cage.

"I'll correct the questionnaires immediately to get an idea of who is who. But, we'll begin by studying the Cornish pixies during that time!" laughed merrily the professor.

Everyone laughed.

"You're laughing, all of you … let me show you wrong ... With a bit of noise, these little creatures can be very dangerous! You would have known if you had read my book about animal moors."

Then, even before giving any instruction on how should the student proceed to take care of the little edgy blue imps (Neville saw them move in all directions in their small cage. He counted a good ten … Lockhart opened the cage and took refugee behind his desk with a magical bubble that caused the imps to pass him by without so much as a thought. He then devoted himself to the questionnaires while all students were screaming in terror at the mess the lutins were making! Actually, the little demons sowed chaos throughout the room. They threw chalk, ink overturned, raised chairs and even entire tables. They tore the books and threw them on poor students. Besides that, students had either taken refuge under tables or outright fled the current room (this was the case of only one Ravenclaw). Neville was left standing in the middle of all that chaos.

"Nev! Down before they get you" screamed Hermione from somewhere down on the floor.

But it was too late to do anything. Neville was already being raised by his ears and left hanging on the room chandelier by the pixies. Laughter rang in the room full of students, except for his friends who tried to help him down. The poor boy himself, was starting to panic. He had dropped his wand and had seen two pixies seize it and fight with his precious item.

"That's enough!" Cried Bael who had risen from the floor. He raised his wand in the air and was about to cast a spell " _Immobi_ ... "

But the pixies took his wand in an flash and 6 small blue devils pounced on the poor metamorphmagus. Bael sent one sprawling into a wall with his back hand, but he was soon overwhelmed. The pixies were clawing at his face, destabilizing the boy and pushing him back. Just enough to tilt the window and make Bael fall over.

"AAAAaaaaahhhhh ..." cried the Gryffindor as he flipped over, while Ron tried to fly to his rescue him, but was knocked by pixies.

" _Immobilis_! " Cried Hermione the very next second, acting to stop the whole mess.

Suddenly all the demons stopped, immobilized by Hermione's spell. Lockhart, then, finally looked up and sent a perfect smile, enchanting Hermione

"Ah, perfect, I see you've managed to get rid of the pixies. Real plagues, aren't they?"

Faced with the incredulous looks of the class, the teacher continued

"Put some order in the room and sit down. Now that I have finished reading the questionnaires, I would like to know who is Hermione Granger?"

Hermione timidly raised her hand and the teacher gave her another Lockhart smile making her blush even more.

"Well, and" there Lockhart frowned, "Who is Baelfyre Black?»"

Lockhart looked up expecting to see the student in question but no one appeared.

"Uh ... sir ..." gently tried Ron, who had just woken up and was rubbing his head sadly, "He went through the window."

"Ugh ..." the professor seemed lost. "That is not healthy." he blinked before seeming realizing the situation "What? But catch him up! Hurry!" rushed the professor in obvious concern.

The professor stood up and leaned over the said window and watched his missing student. Obviously the remark that he had prepared on Bael remained stuck in his mouth as he watched the struggling student. The latter was grabbing with his finger tips on the edge of a stone, just under the window of the classroom. His wand in his mouth, caught hapharzardly as if he had fought with some pixies to get it back. He was therefore unable to speak except for little expressive grunts, strangely sounding like pleas for help.

"Do you need help Mr. Black?" Asked genuinely Lockhart at his student disbelieved face.

"Mmmmmh!"

" No?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmh!" reitarated Bael, getting redder by the second.

"Wait for me then, I'll get my wand. I'll levitate you, do not move. I mastered that spell long ago! Don't worry!" Lockhart screamed while pulling out his wand. He pointed it at Bael who seemed to tremble with fear. " _Levicorpus_!"

A jet of light left his wand and touched Bael. Only the spell had not the desired effect. Lockhart raised Bael, yes, but precisely. A bit too much. Instead of going to the classroom, Bael rose like a shooting star to the top of the tower.

"AAAAAAAAAaahhhhhhhhh!" Bael shouted on a full out scream of terror, his lungs giving way to their full capacity. Unfortunately in his cry he lost his wand, which fell to the ground, slowly passing by the bewildered students on the window.

Lockhart looked at his pupil up in the air with joyous smile.

"I did it!"

"No, you did not! You just sent him six feet above the castle!" Exclaimed Ron who was also looking out the window. He also observed the wand falling from Bael's mouth with a sad gaze.

"What do we do?" Neville asked nervously, rubbing his ears.

"We seek help from McGonagall, she will know what to do." Hermione said quietly, admitting the professor's incompetency. She was completely horrified by Lockhart's less than pleasing spell. She also watched the professor's wand as if it were a weapon of mass destruction, which obviously was not very far from the truth.

"What, no, no, wait, I'll take care of it and bring him back down." Ushered Lockhart when he heard Hermione, choosing to ignore Ron's mutterings of plundering Bael in the ground with a faulty spell.

* * *

Bael was clenching his heart. Suspended in the skies, he was flying with the eagles. It could have been fine. _If only he had a broom and a wand with him!_

"Whew ... I avoided the worst I think ..." muttered Bael when he saw a weird purple spell almost touch him. Whatever that was, it was not meant to do him some good. Bael then felt light-headed. Was that the earth? Except he was still in the air. And the castle seemed particularly too big suddenly.

" _You've shrunk him_!" Hermione cried out in horror. She then went scampering towards McGonagall's office without demanding her rest.

"No, this spell was not the good one. I'll try this one!" pouted Lockhart, now focused on hitting Bael with his spells.

"No, do not point that thing on my friend! " Ron shouted before trying to disarm the professor with Neville.

* * *

Professor McGonagall was in full swing during this time of the year. She was usually dispensing the first year course at this time, and it needed her whole attention. Firts years needed to be impressed before trying anything. She knew how important it was to leave a good impression from the very first course. Therefore, she schooled her feature in a blank mask, no smile, and narrowed eyes to scare a bit the naive children and then, she went on some speech about the wonders of transfiguration and its dangers. After all, transfiguration was a serious matter.

She, therefore, was certainly not expecting to hear cries coming from the outside during her lessons. But the noise did not stop and McGonagall was thinking she would have to remind her colleague to tone his lessons down.

She frowned briefly. _Lockhart_. Just his name disgusted at the highest point the witch. McGonagall prayed Merlin the Weasley twins or the little Marauder duo apprentices would play tricks on him. Yes, they seemed very inventive ... and Lockhart was just a very obnoxious man. She was sure her little students had already planned some very entertaining spells.

But the witch stopped her train of thought to reprimand a student who apparently did not understand the concept of _not lighting up a match and transfiguring it into a needdle_. Honestly … that one wouldn't go far in transfiguration.

But then, she had not expected a dark figure crashing past the windows of _her_ classroom while _she was there_. A little common sense. In addition, this form was distracting her students, again. And while the witch was heading to open the windows and yell on the daring student who had taken his broom and flown in front of her Windows - the nerve of that youngster, she saw a wand gently fall from above.

 _A student,_ thought the professor, holding her heart which had just missed a beat, _that was a student with no broom!_ Quick as lightning she opened her window just enough to hear the louder cries of said student. Then she leaned over and saw the source of the problem. Again, she thought she had just taken a decade by looking at the scene.

" _Mr. Black! What are you doing up here?"_ shouted the teacher in her no nonsense voice.

But her question went unnoticed and soon she could no longer see her pupil in the skies. She lowered her head gently down and saw her colleague waving his wand at Bael. No wonder he was flying everywhere. Her colleague had just demonstrated his horrendous magical deeds … with some chance, McGonagall was sure Lockhart could get expelled. Pulling some strings, Lucius Malefoy, who was on the board of governor, could ask for the professor's leave. He would care for his nephew well-being … would he not?

The teacher saw Ron and Neville trying to make Lockhart drop the wand, somehow shouting insults here and there.

McGonagall pulled her head up, a heart attack almost striking her as she lost sight of hr troublemaker student.

The door of her classroom was then suddenly flung open by a Hermione Granger, red and breathless.

"Professor! I'm sorry to bother you but there is an emergency! Bael ... "

But no one listened. Everyone was leaning over the windows while McGonagall raised her wand at what she thought was the form of Bael. She succeeded on turning the student back to his original size – that was some advanced transfiguration spells she did not even expected Lockhart to know. She was impressed. Slowly, she then brought back her student into her classroom. She was not about to give him back to her stupid colleague. The poor dear was traumatized. On a closer look, Black had always been a traumatized student.

Meanwhile Lockhart was still trying to cast spells without finding the target. Multicolored spells broke the air, scaring even more Bael.

 _Good. He has done enough damage like that._

"Now I want to know what happened!" McGonagall demanded to Hermione, knowing her students would just not focus after that particular episode.

She saw Bael shivering in fright, changing his hair color every second (after trying all possible green shades the world had in store, he was now trying the red ... the magic prowess of the second year impressed her first years and kept them busy). Good. She could hear the story without a polluting sound behind her.

Hermione explained to the Transfiguration professor the whole story in short but shaming sentences. Nodding, McGonagall sent the young witch away, with a word to bring her friend to the infirmary and to retrieve his wand. Then she hurried to Lockhart's classroom to give him a word or two about the event. She was going to step up her game, and seriously so.

Not surprisingly, when she arrived in Lockhart's room, it was a real war field. And when she flew into a rage fit in the room, all students took refugee as far away from her - and even tried to get out. She did not hold it against them. She rarely got this mad. Her Gryffindor side showing its rear this very moment, as she stared at Lockhart. The latter sent her a smile that was meant to soothe but Minerva had every intention to make him understand the depths of her thoughts. That is to say, some very crude thoughts.

It is said McGonagall's voice carried in all the castle.

Bael also seemed to grow a sadistic streak against Lockhart that very day.

* * *

One evening, Bael entered the common room very happy. He must have trapped somebody, possibly either Snape or Lockhart. Since the accident, he had not forgiven the DADA teacher and was hell bent on making the professor's life at the Castle a misery. No one came to help the poor lad when he was in trouble with the corridors, thus missing a lesson with the fifth year. The few girls that had tried to help Lockhart had found it absolutely impossible to do so. Getting stuck in a smelly hole, under a torrent of rain was hardly a heaven. Even with Lockhart. A whimpering mess was not an ideal.

Bael hummed as he entered the common room. Instead of coming right toward his friends – he had seen them in a faraway corner, he located Maureen and Ginny and apostrophed them.

"Ginny! Maureen! What a pleasure to see you tonight!"

"Ha! Bael, you scared me." Maureen uttered, a scare-jump passing her

"So, the first week of classes, how did it go?" asked Bael all ears for some new gossip. With Lavender Brown, he was one of the worst gossip ever to have walked the Gryffindor Common room.

"Nah, it was just Snape being snarky, nothing too mean ..."

"Ouch ... it still hurts a little but then you get used to the git ..."

"Yeah ... it made me a little scared. And to say mom and him are friends.» "

"... What terrible news!" spasmed Bael, "Your mother is no pureblood! Wait for my mom to hear that … haha, Snape is gonna spend some awful time."

"I thought you and your mother were at odds?"

"Oh, you know, we have our moments." Waved Bael.

Maureen merely laugh.

"You look like Sirius like that!"

"Well, you know, he is family after all. But I don't really fancy myself being so close to a _dog_ ... Anyway, what are you doing beautiful?", Bael tried to give the girls one of his charming smile, a dazzling one that could swoon some third year girl.

"Do not look at me like that, it just makes me want to cringe." Muttered Maureen, gesturing to the stupid smile of the metamorphmagus. "Actually, you flirting at all is disgusting. You're like ... my brother."

"I'm hurt. I think that was the fastest friend-zoning ever..." false tears streaked out of Bael's eyes. "No ... even worse. the Bro-zoning. That hurts."

"Whatever, what are you here for? " Maureen replied with a sigh.

"I'm curious, that's all"

"I don't believe you ..."

But Maureen narrowed her eyes and cocked an eyebrow. Bael relented.

"I need some new idea of pranks. Usually, people's lives give me some insight into what could be funny to pull out …"

Maureen then indulged.

"I was going to write a letter to my parents and Ginny was about to write in her diary.»"

"Maureen! You swore not to tell!" hissed Ginny on her right, gaining a nice tomato shade to her cheeks.

"Do not worry Gin-Gin, he won't tell anyone." Maureen muttered, eyeing the boy once, "It's Bael. Nobody believes a word he says."

"You know, I can very well-" Bael said to spite the girls, his eyes curved upward.

But Maureen looked at him with a murderous glare and Bael capitulated. He swore not to tell anyone and added.

"It's cool, you know. I have a diary too."

At these words Maureen chuckled, Bael threw a pillow on her face,

"Yep! And I put all my ideas in it. Look, it is over there!" Bael pointed to a small white booklet on a sofa in the middle of the common room.

"And you let your things hang around all the time?" Ginny asked sceptic, squeezing her own diary against her chest.

"Well, you know, nobody wants to take it in fear of a curse or something like that." laughed Bael, "But I must say I really put everything in there. Even during history of magic." Facing Ginny's head, he continued, "That's where Ron and I have the most ideas, so I write them down to remember them."

And the conversation ended there because Ron called his friend for some help. Bael turned his head and stared at the show that Ron was giving to the whole common room for a while now. It must be said that a student fighting against a flying carpet while being wrapped in another carpet was very interesting, to say the least. Bael simply waved his friend, laughing with Maureen and Ginny at the unfortunate fate of his red headed friend.

* * *

 **Okay, here it is for another chapter!**

 **It's a bit fillerish, but I felt like doing it :)**

 **On the good kind of news, I finished writing the whole second year, so you don't worry for the next ten weeks or so ^^**

 **And I wanted to thank Drago** **nEye1006 for the russian traduction. Good luck actually ;)**

 **And most of all, don' forget to favorite, leave a like and a review**


	18. The first voices

**Sorry, I'm kinda late for the week's chapter ... what can I say? I had a long day**

 **Thank you again for the fav, follow and reviews, don't stop it :D**

* * *

 _Chapter 18: The first voices_

Quickly, at Hogwarts, and more particularly in the Gryffindor common room, a routine of sorts had taken place. As the little prank war between Fred, George and Bael and Ron had quickly raged out of control and as everyone now threw a small spell, nobody left their dormitories without some form of protection. Depending on the courage level of each student, the protection was different.

Some had just opted for the friend-shield – something Hermione consequently did with her three friends, some others had quiet complicated wards that ultimately failed – an inside joke of Fred and George to see whose protection was the best - and finally came the reckless ones, those who boldly crossed the room to reach the Fat Lady's portrait without so much as a thought. They would come down the crowded stairs and padd their way through the room. Sometimes a pool of sorts obliged them to swim across, some other times, some trips here and there, a forgotten hex in the corner of the room would drastically change their appearance.

Prefects were deterred from acting. Their mighty roars of scandal were forgotten in battles that could take place between the different sides of the common room. Soon, they joined the fray and these stray spells had quickly become a morning ritual. Or so would McGonagall say with some tender eyes while distributing detention to whoever pointed out the traumatized students and troublemakers.

Which now led our small group of friends using real shields to protect themselves. Apparently, the knights of old times had discovered the wonderful properties of some iron wrought shields to defect spells. Good enough for the small group who tried to leave the common room without mushrooms heads or tentacles all over their bodies.

"Did we just lose Nev' in that jungle?" breathlessly wondered Hermione once they had reached the corridors. Her two male friends were just as red, each one carrying a heavy shield.

"Let's pray for his recovery." Lamented Ron, panting heavily, "He has a shield too."

"Those things are super heavy. Me thinks he'll stay stuck Under the shield in the middle of the No man's Land." Moaned Bael, "Tell me again, how are we supposed to carry around those things with us? Feather light charms won't even work …"

The three Gryffindors went down in a sour mood.

"Oh, and Bael, where did you get those?" asked Hermione pointing to the shields, "The Castle gave them to you?"

Bael negated with his head.

"Nope. I sneaked out of the Castle last week-end and went to Gringotts to retrieve some family heirlooms. It took me forever.!"

Hermione and Ron discreetly put some vital space between the offending shields and them. Stray spells on forgotten heirlooms were a forever curse in families like Bael's.

"So nice of your parents to allow it." Muttered Hermione.

Bael snorted.

"I don't think they're aware of that. But mind you, they soon will be. See my cousin over there?", and effectively the condescendingly blond haired boy was only a few paces away from them, staring intently at the shield Bael still carried to parry Peeves, "I bet you 5 galleons he will tell on me."

"Any idea of your parents' reaction?" Ron asked, kicking some rock on his way.

Bael grinned madly.

"Well, it could go down smoothly with them never acting – but let's face it won't be like that – or I could put them back in the vault before they could check it."

Hermione and Ron rolled their eyes and dragged their friend with them to the Great Hall. Too far gone in his rant against some pureblood values, he was blocking the corridor. Ron abandoned the matter quickly and went instead for some bribery.

The two boys bickering did not stop Hermione from reading her book at the Table and still waiting for their missing friend to come down. Soon enough, Neville came tumbling down, sporting a strange blue skin. The boy did not quiver under the other Houses students – this was practically the norm for Gryffindors, he was not the only one to have the same hue – and sped down the aisle toward his friend. Firmly he took some breakfast and a slight purple blush appeared on his cheeks.

"Guys! You missed the report in the common room!"

The three friends sweat dropped at the gushed appearance of their peer.

"Yes! In an hour, the quidditch tryouts will begin!" finished the boy, "I know you guys want to …" but Neville could not finish his sentence. Bael and Ron were already gone, already running to the Gryffindor tower to gather their Quidditch stuff.

"Mate, do you have a broom?" asked Ron, remembering he had never seen his friend with a racing broom in hand.

"Don't worry. I'll use Draco's."

"That's not … How are you going to convince that ferret?"

"who said anything about Draco knowing I'm borrowing his racing broom? Look at that and admire my genius." Simply said Bael. The metamorphmagus stopped running to clap his hands. A house elf appeared immediately in a loud crack.

"This, Ron, is Poena. My family's house elf. Don't let Hermione ever know about her or she's going to harass me to free her. She's already on poor Neville's back about it … anyway. Poena!"

"Young master called?" croaked the small creature in a low bow.

"Do fetch me Draco's broom."

The house elf left the very next second. Ron's jaw was down.

"Mate … it can't be that simple …" whined the red head. But he was proven wrong when the very last racing broom suddenly appeared in his best friend's hands.

"And that is how it's done." Brightly boasted Bael, "Now let's hurry, we still have to take our robes."

"Wait!" cried out Ron, "Can't you ask you house elf to fetch them for us?" hoped the boy.

His best friend laughed.

"See, the thing is, Poena is not allowed in the Gryffindor common room. Parents' order … They thought I would manage to destroy the room with her." He darkly finished.

"But he can go to the Slytherin common room?"

Bael huffed.

"Draco's the favorite. And a Slytherin."

In the end the two friends marched over their common room. A huge swamp was the Castle's good idea of a prank after the jungle that morning.

"How are we supposed to even work?!" moaned Ron, blocking his nostrils so as not to smell the awful smell released by the - _bubling? Was the swamp bubling? Yes, yes it was_ – bubling swamp.

"Shut up and pull on the rope!" replied Bael.

Fortunalety, some ingenious Gryffindor fellow had taken pity on his peers and invented a safety rope by the side of the room, allowing the lost Gryffindors some reprieve.

"Whatever. How fair is that, that we know Snape will take points, _again_ , might I add, because we will smell like a "were-wolf". Did he ever smell the dungeons? I swear his caves smell like a corpse is slowly decaying in his shelf." Muttered Ron on the return trip. Some of the swamp had left a beautiful trace on the red hair of the Weasley.

"I could try to vanish the mud." Proposed Bael. Ron stepped back.

"No thank you. I would like to stay in the living plane of life. Last time you vanished half your arm and had to stay in the infirmary ward for a week."

Bael blushed at the memory Ron was referring to. He coughed some more and dragged Ron to the Quidditch pitch.

"So, at which post you're trying for?"

Ron shrugged.

"Honestly, I wanted to be a keeper. But let's face it, Oliver is a thousand times better than I ever will be. And then my brothers will probably be the beaters duo again. So it just leaves me with Chasers and Seeker. And somehow, I don't think any will fit me." Grunted Ron, "I will just have to wait for next year I suppose. I'm just trying for the kicks. And you?"

"I trained all summer for this! I'm gonna try for Chaser! I'm sure I can at least replace some of the girl from last year!" Flames had erupted from the ordinary grey eyes of the metamorphmagus.

"Any progress? Because last year …"

Bael cocked an eyebrow.

"Whatever happened in the cave, stays in the cave."

Merrily laughing, the two boys left for the quidditch pitch, talking strategies and possible combinations in the wildest dreams of the two of them being taken for Chaser.

"Do you think Nev' and Hermione will go and see us?" wondered Bael.

Ron nodded.

"Yeah, even if they don't care much. Hey, mate, why are the Slytherin waving you good luck?" asked Ron, seeing in the far corner some of the said students. Bael stared at them curiously, as if he were studying some dangerous beast from afar.

"No idea. They don't make sense half the time. Like, the other day, Pugginson berated me about Slytherin pride and how I would become a traitor if I ever played in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And then, she said it would be a good idea if I could sabotage the team."

Ron snorted.

"Wasn't it the time you sent a screaming hex hurling down the corridor?"

Bael's smug look was enough of an answer.

"Why is that witch even talking to you?"

"We may or may have not spent some childhood days together. I actually know half of the House from then …", Bael shivered, a defeated look on his face. "It was bleak days then." he shuddered dramatically.

"Oh, and … would you let me try the broom?" asked suddenly Ron, eyes boring onto the broom, not interested into Bael family stories. He had heard enough of them. Bael laughed.

"Hell yeah."

Finally, the two Gryfindors arrived to the Quidditch pitch. Many Gryffindors were already at the try-outs, all warming up for the upcoming try-outs. Just in time, because Oliver's whistle cut out all conversation and he beckoned each student forward. In mere seconds, the captain had already expelled from the pitch a dozen of students, all of them here to spy on the try-outs.

These sessions were after all a good moment to assert each weakness and strength of the future teams. Bael himself had already gone to the Ravenclaw's try-outs. He had not been impressed at all by the performances. As he had said to Ron – his poor friend was shaking in his boots, stress having the better of him – he had trained hard this summer. Often times, he had almost blundered into a window. Fortunately, none of his parents had been near. But now, he could aptly say he had mastered some nice stunts.

"You're no spy? Are you sure?"

The keen eyes of the captain bored on Bael's coloring hair. The child was sweating profusely, trying to prove his Gryffindor belongings.

"Alright."

The very suspicious tone told clearly he was not convinced at all.

"We'll begin with simple tours of the pitch!" shouted Oliver, a sudden energy coming back to him. "All on your brooms! The fastest five will be given some try for the chasers spots!"

No need to say it was a rushed race, half of the hopeful Chasers falling off their broom after the dive of one Angelina Johnson. She was sure to be kept on the team.

Rather on a lucky day, Bael finished fifth of the race, just in between two sixth years, which he had confused with too bright hair colors.

Thanking all his lucky stars, Bael landed on the pitch under the stares of Angelina who had already finished.

"That was actually very ingenious." Mused the girl in a smile. "You're very sloppy though."

Bael sniffed. He, who had thought it had been one of his best races, was miffed by the reflexion.

Down the pitch, the cries of Oliver could be heard. He was admonishing the twins for some bludgers stuck in the stands. Agony cries soon followed.

"He's completely nutter." Gushed Ron past him, having being eliminated in the race. "Try to stay alive."

Soon though, the try-outs were over. After some eventful debates, Bael had not make it to the team. Alicia Spinnet had beaten him just slightly, had said Oliver.

"If I'm ever in need of another Chaser, I'll call on you. In the meantime, you should practice more. Next year should be better for you. Also, training's at seven. Don't be late all of you. Team B should come too. So, Pugey, Roxlar and Black don't forget to come. We'll make a special training."

The metamorphmagus had been so happy, his once so controlled face had morphed into a multicolored mess, completing going over the fact Oliver was going to use him and the two replacements – the sixth year students he had confused earlier with his hair – as a punching ball for practice.

"I did it!" shouted the boy to his running best friend. "I did it Ron! Granted I'm not the real one yet, but still!"

* * *

The very same night Bael made the team, Neville had come back disheartened to the common room. His two male friends were already celebrating Bael's admittance in the Quidditch reserve team while Hermione was finishing an essay on some obscure branch of the potion arts. Or so she had said. Ron still suspected it to be a letter to the oh so charming professor Lockhart. Despite Bael's adventure on the first lesson, her slight crush on the professor had not abated. According to her, Bael had deserved some knocking down. And since the next lessons had been relatively calm, even if embarrassing, nothing drastic was hampering her from pursuing her quest.

Neville, so, came back in the common room, not bothering to dodge the water bucket suspended in the air and directly went to his dorm. Perplexed, his friends followed him.

There, sitting on his bed, the boy was on the verge of tears.

"What happened mate?" asked Ron, worried by Neville's tears.

"I", almost sobbed the boy, "Snape … he gave me a detention for having a book in my hands!"

Hermione frowned.

"He must have invented a rule. Again. But really, Nev', what's the matter? It's not the first time Snape had done some of these things. I remember you not even moving when he glared at you last morning."

Neville hung his head and whispered.

"I'm in detention with Lockhart."

A freezing moment was spent in silence, digesting the news. Ron and Bael patted Neville on their backs while Hermione blushed.

"Oh, really! Neville! Professor Lockhart is not that awful!"

"He made me sign photos." Dead-panned the boy in remembrance of some corridors event. He had sworn the teacher was tracking him down. There was just no way the wizard could always be in the same location as Neville. Especially if Neville was in the greenhouses. For a fact, Lockhart hated the plants.

On some other day, Neville would even have argued against his female friend about Lockhart's wonders. Now though, he was just too tired to care.

"Ok, listen guys. I'm going in now. Just taking some stuff …"

And Neville took his bag full of parchment and quills – perhaps the professor would make him copy some lines, a wishful thinking but an option either way.

"We'll wait for you!" came Hermione's voice.

Neville smiled, knowing his friends would brave the Castle's might for him. He crossed the common room turned sands in mere seconds, passing by Maureen who was looking for her friend, and engaged into the long ascending stairs leading to the DADA classroom. Feeling like an impending doom would soon fall over his head – and Neville had checked for any signs of Peeves without much success. Slowly he knocked three even times on the door of the DADA classroom.

The door opened on itself, giving way to a way too bright Lockhart.

Neville gulped. He did not like that smile an ounce. He nonetheless went on, and put his bag on one of the tables.

"Good evening professor." Professed Neville dutifully. Lockhart smiled even more.

"Ah, my boy. Here you are. I understood from my dear Snape-" Neville almost let out a strangled noise – because who could honestly think of Snape as _dear_ "- and I took the chance to take his detention out of his hands. But let it not be another time, my boy. I won't always be there to save you."

If Lockhart was waiting for Neville go thank him, they would probably be here all night. But, apparently, he understood Neville's glare and swished his wand. Neville almost ducked, knowing full well the dismal abilities of the professor in any kind of magic. He was unable for the life of him to do one spell correctly.

"Come with me! See, I received many fan mail letters and ..."

Neville lost the professor's tirade at that very moment, his eyes resting on the huge pile of perfumed letters on the desk. He almost fainted. Even Bael was not as vain. But Neville complied and went next to the professor – too close for his comfort but he _was_ in detention and he would serve it well – and help the professor sort through the many files. Neville was actually shocked to see, read and fold back letters. Some witches were … expressive to say the least. The poor boy was sure to be scared for the next three months by plaguing thoughts of some picture.

Fortunately for him, his growling stomach stopped torture Neville was put through.

"Oh!" exclaimed Lockhart with energy, "Is it already that late? Never mind, time passes by so fast when we're having fun!" The teacher fortunately didn't see the disheartened face Neville pulled, mocking him. "Go on then my boy." He waved.

Neville scattered at once. He would not stay one more minute. First, he was terribly hungry (fortunately he had gluttons for friends, so he was perfectly sure they had kept their store full at this time of the year) and then the Castle at night gave him the creeps. And as if his thoughts had been read by the Castle, the deserted corridors became much colder and dimly lit.

Neville gulped. And he outright ran when he heard the freezing hissing of some strolling cat. Calming his heart when he realized his mistake, Neville berated himself.

"I'm a Gryffindor … I'm a Gryffindor." Repeated over and over the boy like a mantra to reassure himself.

 _Death … Blood …_

Neville's heart skipped a beat.

Neville was fast approaching his mind's threshold of scary things. Soon, his brain would simply disconnect and let him walk freely with no warning whatsoever. The last time it had happened, he had run into a wall and broken his nose. Even his mother could not stop the tittering smile she had tried to hid.

 _Blood!_

The voice was there again, even stronger than before. Slowly moving up and then down, Neville was stuck to the corridor.

"What was that thing?" he whispered, as white as a sheet and legs turning to jelly in seconds.

He did not tarry long in the corridor either way, his fear giving way to some miraculous new found speed.

Neville sped to the Gryffindor common room, entering in a rush and finding his friends just as fast. He was panting heavily from the running and climbed on the huge tree of the common room. He reached his friends with Hermione's help and he stirred the sleeping Bael from his hammock (somehow Bael liked sleeping in the common room in his hammock rather than in his bed).

"Guys … I…"

"Calm down." Soothed Bael with a hoarse voice and sleepy eyes. He had barely moved from Hermione's prodding. Whatever he had done before, it had drained him.

"Yeah, I'm sure Bael here will play you a soft tune." Mocked Ron, "What's wrong?"

Neville took a huge breath and told them of his adventure.

"You meant to tell us you heard a voice whispering some threats …" repeated Ron uneasily.

"I'm not crazy! I know it sounds like I am, but I swear it was real!" shouted Neville when he saw the worried glances Ron and Bael exchanged.

Hermione recomforted him,

"We believe you, Neville. Of course, we do."

But Bael piped up.

"Are you sure about that voice? I mean, even in the Wizarding World, it is considered crazy …"

Neville saw red.

"You think I am crazy?"

Bael upped his hands in the air.

"Relax, mate. I know some good things about insanity, it's practically a family trait. I told you my aunt was diagnosed with insanity already … And my mom avoids St Mongoose like the plague. So, yeah. It just is … unusual. But you can learn how to compose with it."

Neville gulped. An d tried not to lash out at Bael's unconcerned gaze.

"What you're describing sounds much more like an Occlumency obtrusion than insanity though … Any headaches recently?" Bael asked on his Healer tone.

But Neville told him no.

"Well … We can't be certain anyway." Heaved Bael, "Hermione and I will research some more if you want us to." Proposed the metamorphmagus, knowing full-well Hermione would try to pry open his brain for his knowledge. Neville agreed, dearly hoping for some truth.

He yawned, tired of his trials and Ron brought him back to reality in a few strokes.

"Don't worry mate." Ended Ron, "It never happened before, it won't again. Just … you're tired. Let's go to bed. It must have been Lockhart."

Neville followed Ron out of the common room to the dormitories, leaving a thoughtful Bael and Hermione behind, both already looking for some semblance of explanation. At least, the most brilliant students of their year were thinking up some plans again.

* * *

The following days were stressing to say the least. Neville expected all the time the voice to reappear, but it did not. He was being too anxious, he knew, but he had been seriously creeped out. And, truth to be told, goblin rebellions and/or torture methods were not helping his chain of thoughts right now.

"We'll move on the middle ages, covering a long era from 457, the coming of the first wizarding sovereign, to 1569, foundation of the first magical government." Students had perked up at professor's Binns words. And then slowly plunged back to their slumber. Besides the abnormally long time of said middle ages – Ron would have called it Antiquity – it was notoriously known as the Dark ages, aka the burning witches age. Neville groaned, his darkening thoughts already imagining some worrisome lecture.

"We know few truthful stories of the war between the Stars, monstrous shape shifting warriors, to us the wizards. It was said they began the first witches' pyres and muggles followed in their steps, terrorized by our powers. After the Stars extermination, muggles tracked us down and tried to kill more of us, knowing our numbers were dwindling because of that war. Some were caught, some were highly amused and tried to get sentenced to the pyre. This time went on for centuries." The ghost professor stopped by the window, ignoring the snoring students, "Using the freezing flame charms, a notable example of a witch who was a main foundation of the Statute of Secrecy, Gwendolyn Merylian, set many fires and went a good 68 times to the pyres. Herpo the foul followed her and an insurrection began between muggles and wizards back in 1457. But Herpo was too confident and stole from Greadiler, the goblin's chief of the time. Soon, another civil war, the second of the Goblins of the meedows's existence, was started with the newly appointed gold diggers goblins."

Ha.

Goblins were never too far away with Binns. Neville sighed, not sure he would have understood all the words leaving Binn's mouth had he not a book to help him follow the chronology. And friends. Neville discreetly waved Hermione over.

"When was the first civil war?"

The witch glared at him for stopping her from listening.

"234, against the romans."

Neville narrowed his eyes.

"And the Stars?"

She rolled her eyes.

"They're a myth, Binns told us so at the beginning.", Neville ahed. He had not listen at the beginning. His memory was selective at best. "They are a myth wizards used to explain their small numbers in comparison to the muggles. Some historians wage war to know who were the first on Earth, wizards or muggles and often use the Stars myth to further their theories."

"But what happened to the time in between the civil wars?" asked Neville, realizing the huge gap.

Hermione frowned again.

"Binn's told us only a few scraps of stories are known. Paintings from these times are abnormally quiet about history events. That, or, according to historians, the recorders of the times were not apt and let their knowledge burn down. Some say, it was to preserve the origins of magic or something like that …"

Neville went to sleep in seconds. Bigotry at its best, he knew. His mother had told him thousand times about the pretended origins of magic.

 _It's a mutation_ was all he had remembered from the lecture.

* * *

"Stop being so fidgety." Had groaned Bael once midday had struck. He was relaxing in the park, sunglasses on his nose, while the sunny days were still on the horizon. Neville was right behind Bael.

"I can't help it. I feel like we're being watched." Muttered Neville, shifting and throwing glances all around him.

"It must be Hades. Let him be. he lives a lonely bird existence anyway." had said the metamorphmagus, "Now, do tell what the hell was Sprout talking about earlier. I did not catch anything. When that thing's dung landed on Dean's head, I was already gone …"

Neville smiled, remembering the lesson.

"So, you see the Calibutorae Nexus is a particular plant. Even in our field … " began Neville.

His friend listened to him with rapt attention, all the while writing some words on a parchment. He knew Ron was faking it and pretended to be asleep not far away from Bael and that Hermione had already understood the lesson, but it gave him some reprieve for the day. He suspected his friends had done it on purpose to lift his spirits. Finally smiling since the last seven days, the small group of friends went back to their common room happily, wondering about which decoration would be set by the Castle. They had seen some stiff looking Slytherin come out of the dungeon aisle of the Castle and were now being wary. They had learnt that whatever joke happened in the Gryffindor common room, also happened at the Slytherin one. Something to do with the former friendship of the founders of the houses and the Castle trying to mend the rift between students of said houses. Usually, nothing came out of it, but it had become a ritual of sorts. Even Bael could not ask for some protection.

"It's just the normal room!" cried Ron desperately. And just as he was about to jump inside, Neville stopped his friend. It saved Ron some time in the bathroom to smooth down his hair. A small shock would fall here and there in the common room, dressing people's hair on their ends.

"Is that even allowed?" muttered Bael, looking at some people's hair.

"This was all your idea." Groaned Hermione, pacing in front of them, "Now stop being so scared, the Castle won't harm you if you don't want it too."

She was right. In the common room, students' pleas were kings. Almost. The Castle could still burry somebody under a pile of rugs. It had happened in the Hufflepuff common room once.

But that was not what attracted the attention of the second years. No, just a bit farther from the roaring fire, was a commotion. A small crowd was talking animatedly together, creating a serene atmosphere in the chaotic room.

Neville swore he could hear Ron's brothers in that crowd. And he was proven right when he saw the famous red hair of the twins.

"No way! How did you do it?" asked some third year Hermione had once told the name of. Neville did not remember.

"I don't even know!" Maureen's voice came from the middle of the crowd. Bael's prone form was swiftly by her side.

Neville thought Maureen must have followed in her father's footsteps and cursed a professor in the corridors. It would certainly explain the presence of the worst group of troublemakers near her. That's why, Neville was not surprised to see Fred and George, but more than suspicious about the three other people who seemed ... normal ... at least not like Fred, George, Ron or Bael. They were all bent over Maureen and her speech. He nevertheless listened to what the girl had to say.

"It all went so so fast! We were all with Madame Hooch in flight session with the Slytherins ... So you can guess how that went. Everyone insulted each other in turns, basically. And then between McDouglas (a Gryffondor of our year) and Willson (Malfoy-junior of our year), a dispute broke out and McDouglas went to the infirmary with Hooch. Willson had thrown a slug-spitting spell ... in short, no one had to fly until Hooch was back. Except, Willson decided not to listen. He took McDouglas' rememberall and tried to hide it. Obviously, I stopped him and I chased him on my broom. We went on for a moment and finally he threw the rememberall. So, I tried to catch it before it could beak on the floor! ..."

"Maureen! You were great, stop hiding it!" Cried Ginny, who had just arrived, "She had almost never flown in her whole life! And she chased Willson like a pro, it was beautiful! There was perhaps 15 meters between her and the ground but she still dived ... and just wow. And she even caught the rememberall!" explained a red Ginny beside her friend.

"Yes, except that McGonagall saw me ..."

"She called her and when we all thought she was going to be sent back home, she came back with a smile and announced she would be part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team as Seeker!" Cut once more the youngest Weasley.

Neville withdrew as quickly as possible. He had just understood that the small group was the Quidditch team in full, and some fans who were already celebrating their potential victory for seven years. Already, they were all thinking of winning the Quidditch Cup this year and they howled with joy, without even thinking that Slytherin was still the proud holder of the famous trophy.

"Band of madmen," thought Neville, going to bed and leaving the living realm in a second, dreaming of crazy lions fawning over a golden cup.

* * *

 **So here we are. The story's advancing pretty far a chap'**

 **Don't forget to let me know what you've thought of it, to leave a fav, a follow or a review**

 **See you next week :)**


	19. Full blown disaster

**Hello, it's me again ^^**

 **Sorry for the long wait, I was busy with school and getting admitted into an aerospace school. Well, whatev' now ^^**

 **I edited the chapter, I realized it was full of gross mistakes. Sorry fot that ... and hopefully, there won't be too much mistakes now :D**

* * *

 _Chapter 19: Full blown disaster_

The next morning was very calm. When Ron got up to get clean and get ready for the day, he saw Bael was already up and was tying his shoes. He never recovered from seeing his friend rise earlier than everybody else. He had never seen him asleep except for when he was in the infirmary or in his make-shift hammock. Ron asked a question to his dear friend:

"Where are you going?" Asked the red-headed boy almost savagely

"At Hagrid's. I have not seen him in a long time ... Do you want to come with me? Just before the classes, we can arrange to go down for a little while ... "

But a snoring noise interrupted Bael in his sentence. Ron had gone back to sleep. Bael smirked and gently left the dormitory so he would not wake his other comrades. Decidedly, his best friend would always be the same. He then went down the stairs and crossed the beach, which served as a common room that day. He finally came out of the Gryffindor tower with sand on and in his shoes and gently walked towards the Hagrid's hut. He lived right at the edge between the Forbidden Forest and Hogwarts Park.

Bael took his time to go and stopped several times on his way to greet a gargoyle or a ghost. He also stopped in front of the Black Lake and could see the giant squid thanks to a reflection of the rays of the sun. A short pleasant walk to admire the magical landscapes of Hogwarts, that was Bael's little routine. He particularly liked the sunrises on the castle grounds ... unfortunately he was also completely asleep most of the time.

"I get up early enough" the young boy said to himself as he walked down a few stone steps. It took nearly twenty minutes to reach the little hut of the half-giant.

Bael arrived in front of Hagrid's hut in a very joyous humor. However, on his way to the gamekeeper's hut, Bael noticed another figure. It was in fact Maureen'shadow that was coming up outside the hut. So he met her, just as he was about to enter the house.

"Maureen? I did not expect to see you. What's wrong?" The boy asked cheerfully. He was, however, remorseful at the sight of Maureen. Indeed Maureen seemed preoccupied. She had dark circles under her huge eyes (which could make a vampire jealous).

"It's Ginny ... For some time now she has been acting strangely. I thought I'd find her there, she liked to come to Hagrid's, but I did not see hr. Haven't seen her since last night actually ... I wonder what she's doing. I asked Hagrid but he lamented on his roosters."

"His roosters? What happened?" He asked surprised

"They're all dead. Apparently strangled. Hagrid thinks a Slytherin did it just for, well you know." Said the young Potter angrily and with mild reproach in her voice. Bael had the decency to blush, his hair also took the same tomato-red color as his cheeks before becoming black again.

"No, no, that's not what you think! It's just ... it's a little unusual as an explanation to say that you're looking for Gin-Gin and instead you find yourself talking about the dead roosters of our gamekeeper. Hey, do not worry about Ginny. I'm sure everything's okay! She must just have taken a long walk in the castle." Bael swallowed the last words.

The castle certainly did not do well these days. He had stuck the divination teacher in her room for a whole day because the latter had uttered a prophecy announcing a fatal fate to the castle. Needless to say, the entity had taken it very badly. It was thanks to Dumbledore's help the professor was able to leave the room she had been staying in ... according to rumors, of course ...

"It's not overly reassuring. Especially since the Castle does not really appreciate her. Besides, have you noticed how strange it is acting these days? I mean, apart from our common room, which you and twins have turned into a No Man's land. It blocks whole corridors under no pretext now ... "

"You're sure? I haven't noticed it." the boy replied sarcastically, rubbing his nose while remembering a time he had been plundered into a wall appearing on his way up. "But, you were telling me something about Ginny, what was it? It must be something if it worries you that much …"

"Ginny, well, how to say it ... it's by phase. Sometimes she's normal and sometimes, " Maureen made great gestures with her hands, "it's a big blur. I do not know what to do." She sighed.

Bael suddenly felt very uncomfortable. He did not know what to say and his eternal smile was not going to fix the situation at that moment. He carefully chose to avoid the subject of conversation and redirected it to a more pleasant subject, at least he thought so. Quidditch should do the trick? Everybody loves Quidditch! Except Hermione, but that's another story.

"So, how are you? Did you tell your parents you got a place on the Quidditch team?"

Immediately Maureen's face lit up. And then it darkened again.

 _Oh Oh, what did I say again?_

" Yes. I received their letter this morning. » "

" So ? What did they say? You do not look very happy to me ... "

"I got news about my brother. "

Bael let Maureen go on. He did not smile either. He felt almost guilty for forgetting for a moment she had a brother ... one who had disappeared, by the way. He also felt his mood would soon sink into the negative in a short time. Too many bad news today. And it was a beautiful day, too.

Finally, as the girl did not want to move alone, Bael decided to come back with her. He wasn''t about to leave her alone in such a time. He wasn't that insensitive, as Hermione had called him out. Oftentimes too. He would help Maureen back to the infirmary ward for a pepper-up potion and left with some interior oath about seeing Hagrid another time.

* * *

But the week went on without any problems, if not for the stressed Neville. Throughout the castle, rumors were going on. Especially on Quidditch. The next match was fast approaching. Rumours that Gryffindor had finally found a Seeker, that Ron and Bael had no detention this week (a feat considering the number of improbable farce made up by the two boys) and that Lockhart's lessons were still as disastrous, were running around like wildfire. Truly life at the Castle was beginning to return to normal. Quidditch's training was done at unlikely times too (the Gryffindor team had to get up at 4am sometimes to train on the field, and several times Bael had believed they were going to get caught by Filch for "Being out of the dorms at night") and Oliver became more and more insane as the next match was approaching at a great pace. ("Your only excuse for not being on the field in ten minutes is to be dead! It's not a joke Weasley!" Oliver spat out one morning before sinking slowly into the ground of the common room. A swamp had appeared and imprisoned the captain under the laughter of other Quidditch team players).

But as the lessons were also resuming, they got more difficult than ever. Except for Hermione, who did not hide her superiority over Bael. She seemed to triumph and shine with glory at the same time. At the last transfiguration class, she had managed to transform her glass into a kitten. For a few seconds, of course, but Bael had not succeeded. Like no one else. But she never ceased to repeat it to him, and more than once, Bael was seen practicing on one of the glasses in the Great Hall. (Neville remembered a dinner conversation which had gone approximatively like that: "Hey Bael. How are you doing toight? Still not exercising your transfiguration spells?" and Bael had stuck his tongue out in a childish manner before answering something along the lines of "Don't you have books to read Mudblood-know-it-all?". The conversation had almost ended in a food fight then. Neville was glad his friends had not taken any of the insults to heart because he had heard some mean things.) No one knew whether Bael had succeeded or not, but judging by his head, one could venture to say that no, he had not succeeded for the moment. That is why, on Friday afternoon, the young Gryffindor came out in a whirlwind out of the transfiguration classroom, apparently in a very lugubrious mood. He overturned the first-year students who were just behind the door waiting for their next class.

"Bael!" Exclaimed both Hermione and Maureen, one to tell him to stop and surely to brag about the spell she had managed to do and the other one to apologize. (Neville wondered how Hermione and Bael's friendship worked. Today, Bael had come in almost late to class and had willingly sat down next to Hermione - forcing some other student to leave the place. And Hermione had smirked her superioir smirk before Bal had grinned, as if asking for a challenge)

"You knocked down Ginny, you dumbass!" Fired away Maureen

"Sorry," Bael grumbled. He did not pay attention to what he was doing. He had vaguely seen Ginny on the ground and her bag spilled on the floor but nothing else registered in his brain.

He helped Ginny get up and pick up her things, Ron helping him, and suddenly he stopped on her black diary. There, lying on the ground, one could read an inscription on the back: _Tom M. Riddle._ Ron saw it too and asked the million galleon question.

"Where did you get it?"

But his sister took the book from his hands and left.

"Mate? Looks like you saw a ghost," said Ron, tapping his friend's shoulder. He laughed, but after a few seconds his laughter became nervous. Bael stared at his hand in a funny way.

"Nothing, we're going. I have a very bad feeling for the future ... "grumbled the latter.

" You too? This defense class, I really do not feel like doing it. Do you reckon Nev' will have to imitate a siren singing again? That was awful last time."

Ron ducked under a stray book sent by Neville just in time.

Bael smiled a half smile and followed his three friends in DADA, although he paid no attention to the professor. Instead, he took out his white notebook and scribbled the few ideas of the day, his mind constantly returning to Hagrid's roosters. An accomplished wizard would not have strangled them if he had wanted the animal dead. Same for a joke. One could take some feathers for a little joke (he had already done it). But to kill in the same way, systematically, all the poor beasts? Strange.

"It does not make any sense!"

Bael quickly put away his white notebook, frustrated at not having more ideas. Generally, Lockhart's antics inspired him but today did not seem to be a good day. And the voice that Neville heard ... Could the Castle protect the ghost or whatever Neville had heard? Was it that weird echo he had heard in the corridor one night? That same echo from long ago ... Maybe it was also why the castle was acting strangely lately. Between the blocked corridors and the slippery paths or the common rooms in full-blown chaos ...

Suddenly the young man received a pellet of paper over his head. He raised his head up quickly and glared at the Slytherin part of the room. They knew better than to hit him with a lowly piece of garbage. But none of them were turned towards him. He then gently turned his head to the side before seeing Hermione. He narrowed his eyes and sighed.

Bael listened again to some bridle's lesson in front of Hermione's insistent gaze.

"The water sprites are very surprising little creatures." Lockhart announced to his disinterested students. "They are in all places with a little water. So you can find a lot of them at Hogwarts and especially so in the pipes or in the Black Lake!»"

 _CLANG_

Ron's head had fallen from boredom on his desk. But that was not what caught the attention of Bael. _There is a full system of pipes in the walls of the castle._ _J_ _I did not know … thought it was magic and all._

Suddenly Bael knew he had a small lead on his case. What Neville heard was roaming in the walls of the castle and more exactly in the pipes.

 _And it's not water sprites that will kill a student or drink blood ..._

* * *

As soon as the course was over, he rushed to the library to try and find the plans of Hogwarts pipes. He would find something there. Anything, just a place; He would then compare it with the marauder's map to check if the contours of the castle were well respected. He probably would have to look this map for weeks, but he felt this information could prove useful in the near future.

Bael spent his few free days in the library with Hermione. Although she spent her time studying and thinking that Bael was preparing another big farce (because he did not have a dubious book about witch genealogies in his hands), Bael was only looking for the famous map. Finally, a few days before Halloween, he found it between two old-looking books.

"Ha! I got it!"

However, he obtained nothing. It was a perfectly normal map. Nothing to report. The only thing he could discover was that the Castle could not alter the outline and its outer limits. Some founding walls also had to never move. The Castle had to respect the zones and certain borders that were precisely the pipes.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt the walls of the castle housed a monster and not a ghost or other disembodied spirit. A bloody good monster. One his family would appreciate.

"Maybe I should talk to Hermione ..."

Bael, however, came out dreary of the library, thinking that he had been searching for weeks for nothing. He fell on Neville and Ron right outside of the room. He ran to his friends and apostrophized them.

"Hey, guys, are you okay? You look like a ghost went through you" laughed Bael

"Yes … "

The answer caught off guard for a few moments Bael, but his bright smile did not fade.

"Ok ... so what happened to you guys?"

"We've just been invited to the Halloween Ghost Party"

Bael roared with laughter and Ron and Neville scowled, "Without me! I want to go to the Great Hall! There will be everything there! Lemon tarts, lemon-flavoured ice-creams, marshmallows of course, chocolate cauldrons ... oh and even _the lemon macarons._ "

Neville ignored his best-friend weird addiction to anything lemon-related. Scratch that, to anything food related.

"Do not tell me. I drool just thinking of this magnificent buffet that we will miss!" lamented Ron, dejected.

"But ghosts must eat something too, don't they?" tried to add neville, hopeful.

" … What? They are dead?" Bael spoke hilariously to the misfortune of his friends.

All three of them went on their way under Bael's bursts of laughter. But as the other two boys wanted to avoid talking about Halloween and its feast, Ron changed the subject abruptly.

"So what were you doing in the library all this time?" »

"Nothing special. I was trying to find information about these voices that you heard Nev ''

" So?" he asked hopefully. The fact that Bael could hear the voices too, or at least that's what Hermione had told him, had uplifted his spirits - although he wasn't sure ho to take Hermione's and Bael's secrets when it came to that voice. According to her, Bael had told her he had recognized the sounds - not understood it. Which was a whole other can of worms Neville didn't want to open. He had the sinking suspicion his friend would either outright lie to his face or go all broody for a week.

"Nothing conclusive. Really nothing."

The conversation stopped there, but Neville wondered if Bael wasn't hiding something again.

* * *

A few days later, the Castle was in turmoil. The feast was fast approaching, but Ron and Neville were far from satisfied.

"Why did you accept Nev?" groaned Ron.

"I could not say no ... He looked so sad"

"It's a ghost! Merlin, what do they even eat?"

Finally, the two friends went to the gathering of the ghosts and left their two other friends rushing to the Great Hall. Pumpkins hung from the ceiling (Hermione had stars in her eyes, Bael had looked scandalized o see _food casually displayed for the eyes only_ ), pets were strolling around, candles were lit ... all things Neville and Ron would never taste or feel.

The two boys went directly to the Gryffindor ghost on the third floor. He was waiting for them calmly, as if another feast wasn't happening downstairs.

"I still can't believe it ... he's there," Ron grumbled.

"Ha, Sir Nicholas, we are here." Neville said ignoring Ron's remark although he thought the same. "Sorry for being late."

"You came!" Exclaimed the ghost

"Yes," Ron said harshly, not happy to be there. But the ghost ignored him and continued to talk to Neville.

"You see when it comes to Neville Longbottom, I'm a star among the other ghosts. You are my guest of honor tonight of course. I hope that the food will suit you. "

At these words, Ron's eyes lit up. But just a moment. For when he arrived at the famous gathering (a dark story of a hunter club with no heads that Ron had not very well followed), he saw only rotten food with worms wriggling out of it. Ron carefully avoided touching any piece of food. He turned slightly green at the sight of a moldy chicken, slowly but surely decaying.

"Nev, can we go? We will really miss the feast if it goes on ... And I do not know for you but I really want to eat something ... how to say ... ah yes, I think the word was edible! "

"No, wait a little longer. In 10 minutes, we can go, promised." Whispered Neville

But they were held back by ghosts wanting to speak to Neville whenever the two boys sought to escape. And each time they talked about the same thing with an unpleasant slowness. Ron was on the verge of tears in the middle of the corridor when 30 minutes passed with just ghosts talking amog themselves.

"We will not be able to eat! Nothing will be left!»"

"Don't worry ... we'll just hurry up a little and wait, WAIT! I can hear the voice again!"

Ron stopped and looked at him strangely. He did not hear it. And to hear voices in one's head ... it was not very reassuring. Even for a wizard. Especially for a wizard in fact. It was often the case of possession or worse ...

"What is it saying thi time?" the red-head nevertheless asked, thinking that he was crazy himself if he began to believe what his friend said about that voice.

"The same as last time ..."

"Very reassuring." said Ron, full of sarcasm. One could still feel the anguish rising in his voice.

"It's going that way," and Neville pointed at a corridor.

"It's not the way to the Great Hall Nev" murmured his companion more and more anxious.

"We're going anyway, I want to know where these voices are coming from. I'll prove I'm not mad."

Neville rushed into the corridor, Ron on his heels. He distanced him fairly easily and turned countless times. The voice seemed to be everywhere at once. It echoed and repeated the same atrocious words which promised a thousand different and always painful deaths. However, when he reached a corridor, he realized he could not hear the voice anymore. It had simply vanished. The small black-haired boy took a few steps back and stopped, short of breath. Il l'avait perdu. He had lost it. And he had managed to lose himself. Bravo, the young boy said to himself.

"What is all this water for?" Ron asked breathless behind him.

Neville jumped, he had not even heard him coming.

Neville lowered his head and noticed a significant water damage. He stepped forward and noticed the water coming from the bathroom. Someone must have left the tap open. But that was not what caught his attention. No, clinging to the torch by the tail, was Miss Norris, the she-cat so adored by Filch.

"Is she dead?" shivered Ron

"I do not know," Neville answered breathlessly.

"HAAAA! My cat!" Filch had just arrived, "What have you done to my beloved cat?"

"We haven't done a thing!" Ron shouted, but Neville did nothing to help his case. He trembled with all his limbs.

"Liars! It's you! It's your fault!" Ron avoided the Filch's crooked hand, "You wrote the inscription too!"

"What?" Neville suddenly found back the use of his voice. His knot in the stomach was still not gone.

"Haha! You admit it! You killed my cat!"

"What? No!"

"Nev', look up there!"

And Neville did exactly what Ron was asking him to do and looked at what his friend was pointing with his hand. He was almost attacked by Filch but it did not register in his brain. No, he preferred to watch the wall with terror. Because on this wall, written in red paint still fresh and dripping, were the following words:

"The Chamber of Secrets was opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware!"

Neville felt his heart squeeze very hard.

Disasters were just beginning at Hogwarts.

* * *

 **The chapters are going to get roughly the same size now, but let's face it, some will be longer and boring becuse i don't really like 2nd year. Hopefully, the rest will be better ;)**

 **reviews guys ;)**


	20. Damning truth

**Yo, me again.**

 **So this is just a quick chapter. i told you I wanted 2nd year to finish quickly. I'm currently writing the third year, and boy is that hyping me. Expect nothing like canon, and some deep shit. Also, Harry Potter should make an appaearance very soon. If I don't change my plans until then though. Anyway, read and reviews, leave likes or favorites ^^**

 **See you soon**

 **Also, since I've got a few chapters prepped up, I will post a chapter every day (up until chapter 36 at least ^^)**

* * *

 _Chapter 20: Damning truth_

The Chamber of Secrets was opened.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware!"

Neville felt his heart squeeze very hard. Disasters were just beginning at Hogwarts.

Besides, he could already hear the footsteps of students running towards him. But Neville did not try and leave the scene - not that he had time to do so. He stuck on the spot with a furious Filch while Ron looked at the cat and the inscription with his mouth open.

Suddenly the professors arrived with McGonagall and Dumbledore in the lead. Snape stood a few steps behind, with, it seemed, all Hogwarts. Neville vaguely saw Bael in the crowd asking him what had happened. Neville articulated the words "It's the voice" and Bael seemed to understand. In any case, that's what it's glowing eyes said to Neville. Bael was quickly swallowed up in the mass of the students. Not that he had the opportunity to talk with Hemione and Maureen too.

"Longbottom! Weasley, what is the meaning of this?" McGonagall asked with her lips tighter than ever.

"It was not us, Professor." Neville began

"Liars!" Screamed Filch, "They're lying to you! They killed my cat!"

"Come, come, Filch, she is only petrified." Dumbledore said calmly. He had hardly looked at the inscription on the wall and had moved towards the animal."Professor Sprout should be able to depretrify it with the maturing mandrakes at the end Of the year."

"Sir, if I may, Mrs. Weasley and Longbottom were on the scene of the crime. So they're ..." Snape started gently.

"Unless you have proof, they are no murderers."

"But ... Longbottom, Weasley, why were not you at the feast like everyone else?" Snapped Snape.

Ron bravely replied, "We were with the ghosts at their party"

Needless to say, Snape was more than sceptic but they were nevertheless released. However, the news had already made the tour of the castle and everywhere, people wondered who was the Heir and especially what was the Chamber of Secrets.

* * *

Bael and Hermione had gone to the Great Hall without Ron and Neville for the Halloween feast. Both were impatient and had wished a good evening to their other friends before heading to the hall - all the while trying not to laugh to much at their friend's misforune. Once they had arrived, the smell reigning there and the decorations had amazed them. They, then, sat at their table and started eating like all the other students.

"So, Blacky! Another joke in sight?" Fred or George had spoken.

Almost everybody in the neighborhood listened to them now. By mistrust. As a transfiguration was quick to happen at the lion's table, people were especially wary of him and his pranks. And when it concerned the renowned pranksters of the school too, people began to really pay attention to their surrounding some more. And they were not only the ones to be wary. Some ghosts moved slightly away from the red and gold table under the amused looks of the students. It was so essential to have a nasty surprise.

"No, no ... I'm not planning anything" - wait, was that a sigh he heard, were people truly scared of his jokes?

"Oh, you're losing your touch, my dear friend!"

"Yes, with the brother, we foresee the biggest joke Hogwarts ever saw!"

"The greatest!"

"Magnificent!"

"And magical!"

Bael laughed heartily at the games of Fred and George. Suddenly Maureen intervened

"You will never be able to surpass my father ..."

"What?! Is that a chalenge I hear?! Then a challenge it is!" Exclaimed Fred

The rest made history.

Maureen kept telling her father's stories while Fred and George listened too eagerly. Bael had taken a notebook and was taking notes as quickly as possible. It seemed that James Potter had been a good joker back in his day.

"No way, he tried to woo Narcissa Black? My aunt? Duh ... that's disgusting!" Spluttered Bael at one tale. "Draco! Hear this! You could have been a Potter!" he hilariously said Under his cousin weird face. "How in the seven shades of Merlin did he think duck wax would help him with Cissy ... I'm sure Sirius told him some shit."

With tha Marauders and their stories, he finally could find some inspiring source of jokes.

"I can not believe it." Hermione's complaint did not reach Bael. "You are more focused here than in class."

"It's all in the atmosphere, 'Mione." mumbled Bael, "Look, if you want to disrupt a normal feast, all you have to do is _pretend._ Right, FRed, George?"

The twins nodded.

"Let us show you a little demonstration, my fair lady." pompously said Fred. "George, after you ..."

"Oh, why, thank you."

It took half a second for George to reach Bael's plate and throw it to the Slytherin's table.

Hermione watched as Bael's faced turned red with a shout ready to come out of his mouth. The plate reached Pansy Parkinson's face and turned it yellow.

"Why was there a yellow paint spell on your plate, Bael?" she whispered.

Bael seemed to shiver.

"That, hermione, is called anticipation. But I sweat it wasn't me!" he cried out as Slytherins were retaliating with their own food.

In the chaos ensuing, Hermione heard "food fight!" hurled in the air but she hid Under the table to eat the last of her meal.

The instigators of this battle (Fred and George) did not even deny Snape's accusations at the end of the fight (Bael had squirmed out of everybody else's eyesight). The calm did not come back, not until a ghost crossed the ground and repeatedly yelled "He's back! On the second floor!"

And then, panic erupted once more. Not at the words, but at the huge mass of potatoes flying, which started the crowd. Ever so slowly, people registered what had just been said by the lost soul.

Within a few seconds, the Great Hall, which had been subjected to a violent battle of food and shouts, froze in terror. All the teachers and students then rushed to the second floor. And Bael had not broken the rule. He had not even tried to find Hermione or Maureen. No, he had thrown himself into the fray and outstripped almost everyone using all the secret passages he knew. Unfortunately, the faculty also seems to know these passages since Bael saw Snape following him. No words were exchanged but the short glances exchanged between the teacher and the metamorphmagus betrayed a deep hatred shared between the two characters. No one could doubt it for a second. But this year, Bael had not dwelt on the potion professor, he had found a new target in his defense professor against the dark arts. The dimwit was far too naive and incompetent to realize that Bael was the author of all his misadventures. And Bael was particularly resentful. The pranks would not stop for a long time.

Still, the two characters debouched on the second flooded floor corridor in record time. They both stopped by the water and were caught by Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Mr. Black? What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for my friends."

"Your friends? They were at the feast with you surely."

"No, Ron and Neville were at a ghost meeting I think ... anyway it was on the second floor so then ..."

But the conversation did not go on.

"Liars!"

In the distance, Filch's cries were heard, echoing on the walls. Obviously, Hermione was not needed to deduct Ron and Neville's location. They were with Filch. And he was seriously angry.

As the footsteps of the students become clear behind the small group, Bael sprang to the sounds of Filch. They arrived on a scene of chaos.

Bael immediately read the inscription on the wall. The red paint was still dripping, proving the recent trespassing. Bael felt a chill run across his back. He read again the strange inscription "The Chamber of Secrets is opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware!", Before returning to the other details of the scene.

A cat was petrified and hung on a torch (not that he pitied her but the young man, he was wondering how a cat could be perched by the tail on a torch ...). He felt the mysteries of this year were even growing and even moreening. Neville's gaze. He was the voice. " A flash of understanding crossed Bael's head and he blended into the mass of pupils once again to think. He had heard enough. Now he had to pay attention to the other details. The corridor flooding came from the toilet. The abandoned toilets. The haunted toilets, too.

"It's weird, normally the castle arranges to close the taps if someone forgets to close it ... floods typically can not happen."

Bael rushed inside to see what had been such a disaster but he saw nothing conclusive. He immediately thought of the "voice" Neville heard.

"Maybe this pipeline story was not that bad ... it looks like a whole pan of pipes have been ripped off.

Bael observed as he leaned over the sinks and a few pipes, which, it seemed, were a torn off. He finally pulled out the pipes to see what kind of pipes could have been smashed. He has a few pipes passed through this area ... as if they were trying to avoid something. Only the big pipes, several meters in diameter, were there.

"Strange." In the other bathrooms and toilets, the scheme is totally different.

Suddenly an intense cold traveled the young boy, stopping him in his reflections. A ghost had just crossed him.

"Oh, who's there?" The boy exclaimed.

A laugh answered him.

"Oh, Mimi, is that right?"

"Oh, you know my name?" And the ghost of a girl with suddenly stood before Bael.

"Yes, you wouldn't happen to know what happened here?" Bael tried to make the most of the situation, and a potential witness was Myrtle, also named Mimi.

She shouted then.

"It was like before!"

"What do you mean?" Bael said on the defensive, cringing and covering his ears a little Mimi could scream very hard in just a few seconds.

"When I died!"

"And ... how did you die?" Asked Bael dubiously, trying not to add some mockery. He had often imagined the girl had died chocking on her screams.

"Are you really interested?" Mimi asked, stopping her complaint for a moment.

"Yes of course. Tell me." Bael feigned interest, he was on the brink of tears: Mimi kept shouting.

"It was fifty years ago, I think The Chamber of Secrets had also been opened." She said cheerfully .

"Uh ... just like that? Without anything else? Not a spell, no, I do not know, nothing?" Asked Bael surprised to hear about the Chamber of Secrets from Mimi of all the people.

"He had two big yellow eyes!" she managed to spat, "That monster ... but the culprit was arrested!" she ended cheerfully,

And she left on these words.

Bael was lost. He had just learned in one night, the Chamber of Secrets was _re_ opened, and a monster was crawling within the halls. A monster that had two large yellow eyes. And could move within the walls of the Castle. But had already been arrested according to the ghost.

Bael felt the need to sit on the ground to recover and straighten his ideas. Another story, one from the past unfolding before his very eyes, Bael realized, a story from 50 years ago. Bael gulped and began to look around. He only noticed the deplorable state of the bathroom. He was about to leave when he noticed a strange sight. A black line of small spiders fled the castle by the window.

"Bizarre for spiders."

Bael, reckless as ever, looked right and left, but saw no one. So he decided to follow the spiders. They took him out of the castle, directly into the Forbidden Forest. However, Bael knew it was very dangerous to keep on going into the Forest, especially at night. He saw Hagrid's hut read and decided to check it out instead. Bael therefore knocked on the door.

"Hagrid! Open up! It's me!"

The cabin door was flung open on the half-giant. He seemed to be in top form.

"Bael, it's a pleasure to see you! Come in. You should not be here, but we'll make an exception for tonight." Jovially said the giant. He has a warm fireplace.

Bael bit his cheeks. Hagrid was not aware of the latest events of the evening. He did not try to inform the giant either. So he settled in the parlor while Hagrid served a tea and some rock pastries.

"Did you know spiders are fleeing into the Forest?" Finally asked the matamorphmagus

"Spiders, you say? If they go to the forest, they must be joining Aragog"

"Who is that?" Asked suddenly a not so serene Bael. He was afraid of discovering another unfriendly creature. The Cerberus had been enough for a lifetime.

"Aragog is an acromentula I saved and raised when I was a third year ..."

Bael's eyes widened, happy not to have followed the spider's trail.

He started way too early his caring for monsters! He thought bitterly.

"An acromentula! Are they not ... like, super venomous?" Bael asked on the verge of hyperventilation.

"What? Aragog? Poisonous? No, not at all, he's very nice and cute."

"Of course, not dangerous at all." mumbled the metamorphmagus trying to remember the last episode of Dangerous and poisonous creatures he had encountered. He found only Nagini, that nasty snake.

"I hid Aragog and they thought ... that he had killed her, that girl ... so ... Riddle ... he ... made it possible to get me expelled from Hogwarts." Hagrid started crying and in between sobs tried to tell his story. Bael spent the rest of his evening trying to comfort him and dodging some globes of unidentified matter coming out of the half-giant's nose.

Again thought Bael, Riddle, the perfect Slytherin prefect.

"It was a long time ago ..." tried to say Bael

"50 years now," Hagrid whispered, confirming Bael's thoughts "Thanks for being there ... but you should not stay. Return to the castle before someone sees you. Come now, get out! "And Hagrid jumped up and almost threw Bael outside.

Bael nevertheless turned slowly to the castle. He did not know what he was doing, but he did not know what to do.

"Riddle ... this cursed name again ... That's why he received a trophy, for "Service rendered to the School" Bael sniffed, « Why do I have an impression of déjà vu ? Well, whatever, I guess we can thank Riddle. He did return Hagrid's monster. But I doubt he was innocent. The moment Hagrid got expelled, there were no more attacks … and Acromentulas do not have yellow eyes. They actually have eight pair of eyes I think … Which means, Riddle is, or was, responsible for unleashing the monster on Hogwarts 50 years. His monster. His horror. His fault. » Bael stopped speaking to take the stairs leading to the Castle in silence, « And, what's this Chamber of Secrets anyway?»

As Bael was back in the Castle, he decided to take a walk by the library. Even closed, he could perfectly access it. The Castle was going to help him, as always. And he wanted information in this very room asap. He was too curious to wait for only one more second. He went quietly in the huge room and started looking at all related events. He fell on Hogwarts: A History and Found a particularly interesting paragraph that spoke vaguely of the Chamber of Secrets. It went by followed.

According to legend, Slytherin and Gryffindor argued about students selected at Hogwarts and more precisely between students of Muggle ancestry and those of witch ancestry. When Gryffindor imposed his point of view, Slytherin left the school, Slytherin and his heirs could control. Over the centuries, many famous magicians and witches sought in vain the Chamber. No one ever found it. Finally, the whole story was considered pure fiction, because no clues were found in the existence of such a room.

The paragraph ended. But it was enough for Bael.

He remembered the events of last month.

The monster. Big. Murderer. Yellow eyes. Reptile? Something cowering spiders. Could it be possible predator? He would have to ask Ron for spider's predators. He did know a lot about these kind of things.

Then, it suddenly clicked in Bael's head. Roosters. All of them died when the monster awoke. The monster had to be afraid of roosters, they could very well be searing weakness. Magical creatures often had disarming weaknesses. Bael was sure Slytherin had a magical creature in the castle and that no one had managed to get hold of it.

But why introduce such a murderous beast in a school? Was it not to protect something, rather than destroying and killing mercilessly?

Then the location of the Chamber. Obviously, only heirs could know and open it. So it had to do with blood. Something Slytherin had and his descendants would have. A special object of sorts? An heirloom? No ... heirlooms could easily be stolen, even if protected with plethora of spells.

And the heir. Who could it be? Bael's mind leaned towards Riddle. He grunted as he leaned on a wall outside the library. So, the heir. Riddle was one. It's no Pureblood name ... Obviously ... so, a squib line perhaps? But today there are no Riddles at the Castle. Remarried under another name perhaps.

Bael then went to the family trees of the great families to test his theory. A child of the deceased Riddle could put him on track. If he wanted to get an idea of the descendants and therefore heirs of Slytherin, he needed this tree. He put a good hour before finding it. And when he found him :

"They're all dead!"

Then he stopped at the bottom of the tree. One name resided. With a date: 1937.

"Merope Gaunt, from Slytherin's squib sister. It's no use though ... Tom Riddle is nowhere to be found."

The heir of Salazar Slytherin had opened the Chamber of Secrets before. Alright. Riddle was no Pureblood name. Could it be ... ?

Bael snorted as he realized Slytherin must be rolling in his grave, knowing that his descendants were no more purebloods.

 _Ginny has a diary with Riddle's name on it._ Supplied suddenly his brain in a moment of lucidity.

Bael cursed. Ha had found his culprit somehow. He had no idea about the location and the monster. However he had his culprit. And it made him very afraid.

"No no.I must be wrong."

But Bael could not even believe himself. He knew. And he was scared. And he could do absolutely nothing.

That night, Bael came in the common room very late. Instead og going up in his dorm, seeing as the common room was for once in its normal state, he promptly fell asleep into a sofa.

He opened his eyes to the next morning on Ron. A close up urged him to close his eyes again.

"Mate! What are you doing here? It's really dangerous!"

"I'm privileged!" Drawled Bael, waking up, "You know the castle never hurts me!" Bael said, still half asleep.

"Hmm, come, we'll miss classes if we continue."

Bael complied and left with his best friend after a quick shower.

Revelations about last night still sinking in. On the corner of his vision, he glanced at Ginny the whole day. The Chamber of Secrets, a book on the subject, The room kept plaguing his dreams. And to add insult to injury, everyone was just talking about it. Bael even heard his idiotic cousin bragging. Draco down a peg or two.

"The Mudbloods will all die! Just watch the Heir!"

Ron and Neville watched with murderous glares the Malfoy while Bael was trying to ignore them. He nibbled on his toast and barely touched his pumpkin juice, still wrapping his head around the idea. And for the first time in the week, Hades, his mother's infernal bird, had not bothered him. Was he put to rest?

"You think he's the Heir?"

"I do not know ... He has the head if you ask me."

"No. It's not him, Ditch it, guys." Bael said suddenly, regretting not to have Hades to distract him. "It's not a ferret like him that would habe the balls to kill Mudbloods. Believe me, I know a thing or two. I spent part of my dear and loving childhood with this moron. "

But that was only a pretext. He did not want Ron to know that his sister was behind it all. And against her will. Probably.

He got up and walked past everyone. He made a simple gesture to signal his three friends he was going to the class in advance.

"What is wrong now?" Asked Ron

"I dunno. Since the incident, he's been weird ... well weirder" muttered Neville, remembering the past week or so since the opening of the Chamber of Secrets.

"Do not you think ... I mean ... could he be ..."

"No, boys." Hermione interjected.

"He seems edgy because of his family. That would not be a first." said Neville with a slight sad frown

"Yes, Hades did a scene yesterday." Ron said between two waffles... He almost charred the bird to force it to leave his side."

Ron thought it hilarious. Everyone laughed good heartedly too. Hades stories were famous around the Castle. The bird had many other influences, including Professor Flitwick.

Although, the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets was revealed to the students in the most unexpected lesson. History of Magic. Professor Binns had noticed that for once his students were not paying attention to his race. At least more than usual. And when he tried to ask what was holding their attention, a student a little more reckless than the others to learn more about the Chamber of Secrets.

"The Chamber of Secrets: It's just a legend ..." facing the sudden silence of his class, the professor relented and told them the tale, "It is said that during an argument between Gryffindor and Slytherin on who was to receive a magical Education, Slytherin lost the fight and was forced to leave for a while, however, he returned, and the legend has it he built a secret room without the knowledge of the other founders and put a monster at the door. I do not know why I told you that! "

It was the only time the whole class was suspended to his lips and drank his words like a thirsty man would drink water from a fountain.

"It's not a myth." "The Chamber exists and the monster too." Thought Bael. However, he let his friends discuss the issue. Actually, he did not know much about these things. Yet he saw Hermione scrutinize him a moment before returning to a passionate debate of the Heir's identity.

Gradually, Bael found answers to his questions, even if unintended. Like the descendants of Salazar Slytherin, it was simply because only his descendants could speak Parseltongue. He arrived at this conclusion by Slytherin House on the Quidditch flagpole (he had almost taken a bludger right in the head because of his lack of attention during training. Not surprisingly, Olivier rebuked all evening ...). Then came the next question as to why each house had animals representing them. For a fact, these animals had been symbols generation before the founders, before the real instauration of last names. Familiar ... they were familiar. I remember Hermione going on about it last year. And when it comes to this conclusion, the identity of the monster become clearer.

"A snake." It is a magical snake. "A magical mighty snake." That only Parselmouths could understand and therefore control, and Parselmouths are descendants of Slytherin only, but Neville is not a descendant of Slytherin. Where am I wrong then? "

He therefore sought a creature in the library gathering all the categories he had found. Yellow eyes, feared roosters, deters spiders (not later than two days, he had seen spiders escaping in the castle windows) and above all, belongs to the family of snakes. Probably magical too. Oh, and most importantly, he kills with a glance, according to Mimi's story. And Bael fell on the mention of basilisk. A terrifying monster in itself, but Bael did not really believe it. This creature was a legend, a myth in itself.

Another problem then came back to him.

"He is not descended from Slytherin ... illegitimate child perhaps ... There are rumors of his great-grand-father not being from Terilo Longbottom, a child out of wedlock ... a possible consorting with The Gaunts of the times? "Bael mused aloud.

Bael paused to think and suddenly bent down to avoid a searing spell behind his back. He turned quickly and saw red hair.

 _Ginny._

She had tried to attack him. She knows.

 _Well ... I'm doomed. The girl was gone though._

Things got complicated in seconds, thought Bael. He was officially threatened. Hunted. And not by anyone. He had to keep a low profile until he could solve this case. The diary, the key in all this should be damn diary!

Bael planned to tell Maureen or Hermione as soon as possible. Neville would just freak out and Ron was more likely to make a fuss because his sister was being used. Therefore Bael let slip the November month. He tried to let slip some information to the two girls, and their narrowing eyes told him they got the fact that Bael was trying to tell them something. Something important. But now that Ginny was tailing him - even when he was in lesson, Bael could swear he would see the ghost of the girl - even though, she would herself should be attending her own lessons.

* * *

Well, on a side note that cheered Bael's spirits, the Quidditch season was approaching. Slytherin and Hufflepuff - a searing defeat of the Hufflepuffs. Bael had watched the game and had to admit the brooms his uncle had bought to make the Slytherin team win was a bit overboard. But at least, he had his own new racing broom.

And Bael had a very ugly sore loser side. So, he had asked the same brothers or that the Slytherin team came back to their old brooms. Naturally, under McGonagall's protection, he had had justice. Only Draco retained his new shiny silver broom.

The tension within Hogwarts also increased rapidly. Between the rumor about the Chamber of Secrets which had largely finished running with the lack of attack and the game, people were going stir crazy. It seemed Hogwarts had become the seat of all tensions for a week. As always, the very awaited game between Gryffindor and Slytherin was coming up. Even Bael was becoming touchier. He was very irritable (as a player of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he also had to get up at 4am for a game he would probably not play - Bael had whined but Oliver had not relented). Worse, as if his anxiety levels could not have spiked higher, Bael learned three days before the big match he would play. Oliver had told him he would have to replace Katie, who was visiting some sick family abroad and would be gone for a month. The metamorphmagus had almost fainted.

With slight trepidation, Bael put on his Quidditch robes. He hoped to see his father in the crowd. Perhaps not cheering for the Gryffindor team - because well ... Gryffindor duh. But still.

A strange warming sensation overwhelmed Bael. Even after the huge argument this summer, his father still had taken off-time from the DMLE to see him. He did not expect to see his mother, she was pregnant and moody.

A movement in the crowd soon crushed his spirits. They were all sporting Slytherin scarves.

"Haha ... why would I ever think they would cheer up on me? I must have gone senile." Muttered Bael, a new-found rage lighting up.

Finally, the whistle cut the air once, signaling for each team to be on the pitch. Lions against snakes, pitted against one another. Everyone had taken sides too. Even the Castle. He had chosen the Gryffindor and unsurprisingly wanted to pamper them before the game. That is why this morning, the common room had been in a pristine condition.

"Alright, guys, ready for the big day ?!" shouted a demented looking Oliver.

"Yes ... Ah Olivier, good morning. Yes I slept well. Yes I'm ? What? If I want to throw up? non. no. No at all. What made you think that? The hair? This is a natural color." Muttered Bael.

And for Fred and George to do the same thing as Bael and sabotage the speech of their captain.

And a mini fight broke out between the captain and players, only to be broken by the girls.

Olivier seemed even more tyrannical than ever to his team in the locker room.

"It's simple. We enter, we take the Quaffle and destroy Slytherins! Am I clear? I want a humiliation! Maureen, you keep trying to get ahold of the snitch. And remember what Blacky" - Bael's hated nickname – he was not a baby anymore he had shouted before relenting when Fred had nicknamed Xerxykins, " told you to say if ever Malfoy annoys you."

"yeah, yeah, I know. His childhood crush on Moon, got it in one. And the chicken suit." Smirked Maureen under her breath.

Oliver continued, a nice little speech and screeching insults to boost the morale's troups. The sermon lasted a good twenty minutes but no one took offense, too stressed for the match.

"And here comes the wonderful Gryffindor team established by the Captain and Goalkeeper Olivier Wood!" The voice of Lee Jordan echoed through the stadium in delirium. Just before taking off, Maureen and Bael looked and smiled even more.

"I think I just saw my parents and Sirius! " Maureen exclaimed before flying closely followed by Bael.

"And this year the selection is very interesting! Beaters, are – no surprise here guys, we saw their wonders last year - the Weasley twins! Fred and George or whatever!" A huge cheer welcomed the words of Lee, and McGonagall said nothing with this lack of impartiality. In view of the colors she wore, she strongly supported her house anyway. It would have been highly hypocritical of her to reprimand Lee.

"And this is our Chasers » screamed Lee in his sonorus « Angelina Johnson! Alicia Spinnet! And the new guy, I introduce to you Baelfyre Black! » Sirius' screams were heard throughout the whole stadium.

"He's mine! This is my cousin!Vas-y ! Go ahead!»"

Bael sweat-dropped, imagining his father's shocked face. Now he was in for a conversation about Sirius – a guy he had never really met, just heard of. He could also imagine his mother ire.

"And finally but not least, the Seeker: Maureen Potter! »"

Here again, cheers went up. It was overwhelming and exciting at the same time. Bael was surprised to feel his grin on his face while positioning on the right aisle of the pitch, his ordinary position. Right wing.

"The game will start in a few, the Quaffle will soon be launched by the referee. The two captains shake their hands. » explained Lee a bit bored, « I really think that Montague should have been expelled ... he is too stupid too »

"Jordan!" McGonagall's cry echoed through the magical megaphone making everyone laugh.

"Yes, yes professor. That's it! The Quaffle is launched! Game is on! And the ball is intercepted by Slytherin and oh, gorgeous Johnson feigned and passed to Black, who feints, a bit awkwardly but that still worked, the Quaffle goes to Spinnet. And Gooooooaaaaaaaal. That's it !10-0 for Gryffindor! The first goal to the lions!» "

In the stands, Gryffindor fans were waving wildly. There was no stopping the crazy wizards. However, on the pitch, players were not as joyful.

"Catch it! But catch the damn thing!" Screamed an unidentified player in the ears of Bael. The poor metamorphmagus only saw a bludger rush on him and made a beautiful barrel to avoid it. By pure fluke he intercepted the Quaffle and rushed into the ring part to score. The confused atmosphere of the pitch and the complete chaos reigning was exhilarating.

"What was that? " wondered Bael avoiding _something_ on his right while throwing the Quaffle back to at Angelina at break-neck speeds.

As some people would then refer as « a highly controlled performance », Bael spun on his broom as fast as possible and dove into the fray with his fellow team-mates, trying to avoid all obstacles. It was absolutely not controlled at all, as his scream could attest. Fortunately, the many players who tried to attack him by speeding right on him never could reach him, all touched by Fred's bludger.

"And it's a goal for Gryffindor! Beautiful pass from Black to Spinnet! 60-20 for Gryffindor! " shouted Lee. "Look at that! Potter plunges! She must have seen the snitch! Oh no, he escaped. A fluke perhaps? Whatever, there will be another chance. In any case, the Slytherin Seeker is far from being enough against dear Maureen here! ... Ah, a red cannon ball passes through the rings of Slytherin! It is a goal signed Black! 80-20 for Gryffindor. The Quaffle is restarted, ball to the snakes, Montague strikes! Aaaannnnd Wood stops it! He caught the Quaffle! This really is the best Guardian Gryffindor has ever had! And look at that team! Oh! Here we go again! Angelina has the Quaffle, she approaches the shooting area and shooots, she fails! The keeper catches it. Oh no! Misery! Come on guys! Don't let them get to you! Alicia takes the Quaffle again, dodge the bludger and scores! 90 points for Gryffindor! YEEEAAAH!"

The match lasted an hour during which Olivier was hit by a bludger and fell to the ground. Despite the penalty given in favor of Gryffindor (which Bael scored under the Slytherin jeers) lions had no goalkeeper anymore. Soon the score became a bit more balanced and even. Gryffindors were having a hard time, after Slytherin had scored three times in a row. Piercing the lion's defense easily. Dirty tricks were used and Bael did not hesitate to throw some sand at Montague's eyes when he tried to cave his head in two against a pilar.

"Maureen! What are you doing?" Yelled Angelina who had taken the role of captain in the absence of Olivier.

"I'm looking for the snitch! I'm trying!" Answered the girl breathlessly.

"And this is another goal for Slytherin. They are catching up!" roared Lee in his megaphone, "My good Merlin! Gryffindor tries to counter attack but the Quaffle is yet again intercepted by Flint!"

A huge cheer went up the Slytherin stands, and as a whole they began to sing their anthem. A disturbing one at that (something about thieves, disease and controlling minds).

Nonetheless, Bael hummed it too. He had heard that song since he was a baby, it had become a sort of lullaby of sorts, apologized his mind to some part of his Gryffindor brain …

« Yes, Professor, here's the score: 210-160, for Gryffindor. At this rate, only the snitch will make a difference!» "

"I have trained like crazy since the beginning of the year. I refuse to lose! Alicia! Bael! On my sides, we'll take the rear." fumed Angelina on her broom in one of the are pause in the game.

"We can try from below, it will be more effective." proposed Bael just as red as Alicia, panting with efforts.

"Take the lead then. You take the brunt of these brutes. I don't fancy ending up in paste." Groaned Alicia, nursing a black eye. Bael ticked, eyes narrowing at Montague's knuckles waving in the air and way too close to people's faces to be a mere coincidence. He nonetheless took the lead for the counter and took on full on a punch in the face – a penalty was whistled, although Bael would have liked his nose to stay straight. Something he forced his shifting abilities to rectify. The counter attack worked wonders though on the Slytherin formation.

The tactics of Gryffindor proved to be remarkable, and in minutes 4 goals crossed the Slytherin loops.

"We keep this advance! We stay on the defense now, and wait for Maureen to find that sneaky golden snitch." intoned the co-captain, " _Black what do you think you're doing_ »!" hollered the terrifying witch to a meek metamorphmagus.

"Uh, I'm taking the Quaffle?" Said the wizard, completely confused, as shown by his white hair.

"But shoot then! Don't keep it in your hand, idiot!"

Actually, some other words were said, a bit more vulgar, but all lost in the action. The Quidditch world was hardly a tender game for soft hearts.

In short, the match was awfully tiring for Bael's nerves. Between the screaming and bludgers trying to hit him or the other players, it had been a memorable experience.

"I love this sport actually." Concluded Bael smiling widely while he threw the Quaffle to Angelina who then scored. A bludger whizzed past his head at frightening speeds – _that could have smashed my head._ Bael even heard Lee's indignant commentaries above and the Gryfindor's jeers.

"And Potter plunges! This time she saw the snitch! Malfoy follows her and this is gonna be a huge race to see who's the best Quidditch player! Pffft! The Wronski Feint!Magnifique. Magnificent. Simply magnificent. Pure talent, a nugget! And Malfoy just ate the dirt, I must say, that had to hurt. He slammed face first into the pitch."

Bael turned his head to see the action, a smile threatening his lips as he saw the limp form of his cousin. He quickly refocused on the Quaffle and Montague. He could not allow a moment of weakness. Everybody was tired. He would stand till the very end. Bael steered left to catch up with Flint and Montague, he stole the Quaffle and sped back to the other side of the pitch with Alicia. Unfortunately, Flint and the third gorilla-like Chaser were after Bael. They turned slightly apart and Bael had a sinking realization.

"Oh oh. They are trying to crush me."

Bael then made a dive to the ground before rising into a perfect candle and send the Quaffle through the silver ring. The Goalkeeper never saw it coming.

"Yeees!" screamed Bael in pure elation, unheard by the students because of the Seeker's action soon going to end.

"AND THIS IS THE END OF THE MATCH! POTTER CATCHES THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR HUMILIATED SLYTHERIN: 410 A 190!» " Lee broke his voice in the megaphone by shouting some more info. "The next match will be Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw in two weeks time! Do not miss the game!» "

But Lee's cries were drowned in the cries of jubilation from every Gryffindor student cheering.

Bael landed shakily and was immediately hugged fiercely by his team.

"Come on! Party in the Common Room!" Yelled Fred or George.

In almost a few seconds the crowd flowed in the Castle to the Gryffindor tower, leaving the defeated Slytherins in the stands.

"Bael! What are you doing?" Shouted Maureen when she saw the metamorphmagus admiring the still golden letters in the middle of the pitch announcing the scores and upcoming matches, eyes filled with tears of joy.

"I'll talk to Sirius for a moment! I haven't talked to him yet, you know … I'll see you later!" he sniffed, happily.

* * *

 **Don't forget to review, fav and all that ;)**

 **See you tomorrow guys**


	21. Down to Christmas time

**Alright, sorry for the delay, I had a headache.**

 **Anyway, here's today's chap ^^**

 **Enjoy guys**

* * *

 _Chapter 21: Down to Christmas time_

"Alright, I've got the books."

Hermione had just put on the table Neville was working on three heavy books. Flushed, the young girl apologized for the mess she had done on the new essay Neville was beginning to write. The boy only shrugged, not at all bothered by it: the parchment used to be some lines for DADA, that is to say some unimportant lesson.

"What have you got there?" wondered instead Neville, pointing the books Hermione had brought and grimacing at a familiar yet nasty book, A Nature's nobility. "What do you ever want to know what's in that thing?" hissed the boy with clear distaste. "You can ask Bael on these things too. I think he is more up to date with all the genealogy ..."

Hermione frowned.

"Only on recent history. He told me yesterday he did not know much about the beginning of many families. It was too much to take into account so he had limited his knowledge to a few families."

Neville snorted. Bael's notion of a few families probably was around 80% of the wizarding families. He could bet his newest plant on it.

"Okay. And why do you want to know about ancestral lines?"

"I figured I might find something about Slytherin's heir."

"I doubt it." Muttered Ron.

The boy had just erupted from behind Hermione. The witch sent an annoyed glare toward the boy.

"Don't look at me like that. You've already went through those books" – Ron pointed the three books and a small pile the size of a sofa Neville had not seen before hand – "with Bael. You've exhausted him, too."

The last friend, Bael, was snoring on a sofa, buried under a pile of books. Funnily enough, his hair kept on shifting ever so slightly from black to white.

"I know … but still. I find it hard to believe we still haven't found the heir. I thought it could have been Malfoy … but Bael seems oddly protective of him."

Neville humphed and let a chair for Ron. Hermione was still standing, opening a few books here and there.

"Well, the git _is_ his cousin. From what he told us, they used to be close. I mean, their mothers are very close, so it's not surprising …"

Ron laughed.

"I don't define throwing levitating curses on your cousin's back as being protective." He said.

Hemione bit her lips.

"Alright. On his own weird way, if you prefer it."

The two boys nodded.

"But you're right. Do you reckon his family might know more about the Chamber of Secrets?" asked Ron, "because, you know … They've all been in Slytherin for ages now."

Neville shrugged once again.

"No idea. And honestly, I don't think Bael would try to pry information out of his family's mouth. Remember how the Quidditch match ended?"

Ron and Hermione grimaced together. Their friend had waited for Sirius to come, only for his father to come first. The impromptu meeting had ended in a scathing glare as Rodolphus had walked past his son, toward Lucius. And obviously, Lucius was having a word-fight with Sirius someplace away from the changing rooms.

When Bael had come up a few hours later, he had looked like hell. Some war had been fought in his hair, the tangled curly hair sporting its fair share of new knots. The poor lad had fallen head first into a pillow and refused to move for the night. Only some mutterings about devious snakes were understood. Ron had to pick up his friend and drag him the next day all the way to the DADA classroom.

"Well, anyway guys." Interrupted Neville, "I haven't heard that awful voice in a month now. It probably was a fluke … seeing as nobody was attacked."

And just as Neville had to say it, some fourth year student came tumbling in the common room (a nice calm oasis with a raging fire in the middle to warm up the children) panting hard.

"The Heir has attacked!"

A silence of death went down in the common room, only to be broken by the slight snores of Bael and another student.

"Yes, I know, it's completely unbelievable!" continued the boy, "It was … Mark Withers. A ... muggleborn." He finished somberly in a hushed whisper, perfectly understood by the assembly. Soon after, people were talking amongst themselves with worry clearly written all over their faces.

"Do you think it really was the heir?" wondered Ron, looking at a worried Hermione. The witch pinched her nose.

"I don't know."

* * *

The worried words did not appease anyone. And the next days did not alleviate the load either. Word had travelled far and wide in a night, up to the Daily Prophet. The Wizarding journal was actually resting into Bael's hand. And going from the tired and frustrated sigh from the boy, nothing satisfying came from the article he was reading.

Ron and Hermione approached their friends to get some news, but Neville beat them to it. The four Gryffindors were sitting in the Great Hall for some breakfast, waiting for the Quidditch teams of both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff to come down.

"Nothing too good. The attack on Mark only resurfaced the many mistrusts in the government. In short, Fudge is confused, Pure-bloods are pushing for Dumbedore's resignation, half-bloods ignore the issue at all while the Muggle-born committee wants Auror in the Castle. The events from 50 years ago are still fresh in their minds. If there ever was to be another attack, the school might close." Finished the metamorphmagus, hair greying at the thought, "Yeah, things aren't looking good for Dumbledore right now." He ignored Hermione's mutter of _politics aren't always blood related._

The three Gryffindors heaved a sigh. What Bael was describing had been going on for two weeks already in the Castle. Outside, tension was rising again after barely a decade of peace. People were getting nervous and frustrated easily. Neville had seen some sixth year try to pick on Bael for his parentage. The boy had rolled his eyes and left quickly, but the dark circles under his eyes he sometimes forgot to erase before leaving the dorm, told Neville Bael was not having full nights either. Ron was the only one in their year dorm to make full nights. At one time, all the boys – bar Ron – had jumped at a cat entrance into the dorm, Dean's spell missing the poor feline by a hair's breath.

"Perhaps, we should try something else." Suddenly said Hermione, "We have no idea who the heir might be, but perhaps we could find some clue about the monster guarding the Chamber. We know it can petrify students like Mark, and that you can hear it Nev'. I'm sure there are not many creatures around that fill the list." She proposed.

Unfortunately, her proposition was drowned under the cheering of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. Their respective Quidditch teams had finally come down. And the two Houses were already at war. But now that the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was over, the pent-up frustration seemed almost non-existent. If ever, the two fighting houses only looked like they were having a petty squabble. Compared to the full-on war that had been waged between Gryffindor and Slytherin in the days leading to their match (only in the common rooms, traps spells had been too mean and too present not to suspect students from the enemy house to have entered the sacred common room – McGonagall and Snape had been furious when they had realized it, but nobody had been caught), Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were not up to the candle. Which led to many mocking laughs amongst lions and snakes.

"We'll look more into it after the match." Harrumphed Bael, suddenly hyped for the match, "Come on guys, or there won't be any nice places left in the stands!"

Bael rushed to the stands, Ron hot on his heels. Neville and Hermione had chosen to stay a bit behind in order to savor their breakfast.

"I don't get it. We'll be freezing in the stands anyway. It's just Quidditch." Muttered Hermione, darkly looking at the falling snow.

The first snow had fallen on the Castle some time ago, around the beginning of October. Now, two months later, the cold had gotten sturdier and a severe sneeze case had been declared at Hogwarts. Neville had been no exception and that had caused the Gryffindors to lose some more points in potion. The poor boy could not hold it in with the fumes tingling his nose.

"Well, then; let's go. I suppose we'll look for your monster after the match. Maybe." Said the young witch while gathering her stuff and leaving the Great Hall with Neville.

"Do you think we'll see Bael and Ron?"

"Don't worry, we'll hear them. They probably will scare some students with their baboon cries."

Neville smiled at that remark, a small spark of warmth gathering at the tips fingers, where his mouth was close by.

* * *

"AND DIGGORY FOR THE SNITCH! CHANG WAS LITERRALY STUNNED BY THAT SPECTACULAR FEINT! 450 TO 340 FOR HUFFLEPUFF!" cried out Lee in his megaphone after an intensive three hours match. Hermione had been bored to tears by the match – and so had been most of the stands, and even at one point the players – Neville had simply sipped on some butterbeer he had bought on some older students. As expected, Ron and Bael had been some of the few to had stayed hooked through the whole game, and boy had they screamed.

"And did you see that last action?" exclaimed Ron, showing some curved line with his wand, "That was majestic! I think Maureen can pull that off much better off, though. Or perhaps you on your good day."

Bael gulped.

"Yeah … no. Mate, I'm far from being an acrobat."

"Dude, you barreled on your broom dozens of times at training. Don't tell me it was not controlled …"

Bael coughed, cheeks tinged with red.

"Oh! Did you see that! Some Slytherin to bother!" distracted Bael hurriedly after Ron's agape mouth.

"Wait! You cheater!"

Neville heaved a sigh at his two friends antics. As long as Snape was far from them, Bael and Ron were mostly safe. They would probably end up in detention yet again for some mischief – the last one in date had been a colored balloon on Lockhart's head, a very satisfying joke in the middle of dinner – but, Neville suspected the two friends to have a means of communication even through the detentions. He was certain he had seen Ron working on some joke Bael was not supposed to be aware of, and yet the metamorphmagus had come back from wherever he was with all the materials Ron had needed for his prank.

Hermione has scoffed playfully and told him about a communicating parchment, a very nice piece of magic the two boys had created in order to be – originally – still in touch on holidays when Bael was more or less sequestrated in his Manor (and Neville thought Bael was actually quiet free if he could go back and forth to Diagon Alley to Paris and then back to magic London all on his own).

"Now, to the library I suppose." Yawned Neville, stretching his sore back.

Hermione nodded and put a strand of hair behind her ear.

"We don't know very much, but I think we need to look into the past. The rumor had it, the Chamber was opened before. The Daily Prophet confirmed it. We need to know what happened then."

Neville's eyebrows creased.

"The Daily Prophet … they've accused Hagrid again."

"I know, I've read the journal too …" said Hermione, turning in a corridor to take on her left, "he was arrested the first time, and expelled for housing a magical creature. There was no real trial too. His wand was snapped with all the decorum possible."

"We could try to just go to Hagrid's then. Instead of looking into books … honestly Hermione, I don't think my eyes can take another paragraph of boring Hogwarts history facts."

The young witch's cheeks colored some more, but she agreed with her friend.

The two friends braved the cold and hash snow in the park to reach Hagrid's hut. It took them almost half an hour, and they were battered at the end of their walk, but at least they had not gone for nothing. Hagrid's lights were on, and a raging fire could be heard from the outside. Neville knocked on the door strong enough to be heard.

"Aye! Come in!"

The half-giant voice carried over to the two students. Neville and Hermione did not stay too long outside, the cold forcing them to rush in the hut.

"Sit! Neville, Hermione! I haven't seen you in a long time! How's Ron? And Bael?" wondered jovially their host.

The two Gryffindors calmly rushed to the fire to warm up quickly. Hermione was the first one to talk.

"They're fine. I think …"

"In detention again?" roared Hagrid, eyes tingled with laugher, "Those two are worse than Fred and George …"

Neville smiled at the thought of the prank war which was still not finished between the four people. The year promessed to be very entertaining.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Uh …" Neville began, not very sure of himself, "It's about the Chamber of Secrets." He whispered.

Instead of an awkward silence, a mere thoughtful gaze entered Hagrid. The half-giant glanced worriedly at his umbrella resting next to the fire – Neville was sure the remnants of Hagrid's wand was still trapped in that awful umbrella.

"Ah, it's because of the Prophet." He muttered, "There's not much to say."

Hermione furrowed her brows,

"Do you have any idea of who could have been behind all these attacks? Or what attacked Mark?"

Hagrid negated his head.

"Nay. I was raising Aragog at the time and Tom Riddle, the Slytherin prefect, denounced me."

"Riddle?" wondered Neville, "Do you think he was behind these attacks?"

Hagrid waved him.

"Absolutely not! Even if I don't like that boy, he was only doing his job …" the painful voice made it clear Hagrid was still not over the story, "And Riddle really was a model student. I don't see him as a murderer …"

Neville and Hermione shrugged.

"As for the monster, I can assure you spiders are afraid of it." Finished Hagrid, "Aragog was absolutely terrorized. And if I remember well, your friend Bael, told me back at Halloween spiders were fleeing the Castle."

"Bael did? He never told any of us …" uttered Neville

"Oh well … you know him. He must have forgotten about it. That, or he just does not judge the spiders and the pretented monster guarding the Chamber to be related. I heard him speak to the Headmaster about the Castle's foundations the other day …"

"The … Castle's foundations?" repeated Neville while Hermione was drinking from Hagrid's lips each word. Hagrid resumed.

"Yeah. He told Dumbledore about some things crawling under our feet … apparently, there are moans of sorts."

Neville frowned now. He distinctly remembered Bael asking him if the voice he had heard was akin to a moan or a groan. Nothing, he had said. It was … just an eerie voice. It was no plaint nor beast-like sound. It had a conscious of its own, had answered Neville in the end. And then Bael had seemed confused.

* * *

Bael woke up with his friends shaking his head gently.

"Mate, we're in London, wake up."

Ron's voice reached his ears and Bael raised his head very slowly, eyes still closed.

"Why?" drawled the metamorphmagus.

From the light laughing he could hear in the compartment and from the commotion, Bael gathered his friends were leaving. He had no idea whatsoever why he had chosen to come back to his Manor for the holydays. Ah, yes. With the attack, students were forced to leave the Castle so Aurors and teachers could scour the grounds, looking for the offending beast.

Bael let out a small sad smile at the thought of adults looking for an uncatchable monster.

 _Wait, how do I even know that?_

But soon, even the thought was forgotten as Bael yawned again and promptly fell asleep on the compartment's sofa.

He was woken up again by a calloused hand on his hair.

"Well, nephew. Time to get going on." Cheerfully said a deep voice above his head.

Bael's eyes flew open this very instant.

"Rab?" – the named wizard Rab (short for Rabastan) nodded and took the last trunk in the net – "What are you doing here?" groaned Bael as he tried to stand up. A full 6 or so hours in the same position on a train could severely damage your limbs realized Bael when he tried to close his fists to cover yet another yawn.

His uncle – for Rabastan was Bael's uncle, his father's brother more exactly – led him out of the train groggily.

"Well, someone had to take you. Bella's being fussy and Rod is at the justice court today, so I was the only one left."

But Bael yawned again and almost fell asleep while standing up.

"Hey! Don't fall asleep on me!" barked his uncle playfully, "Look kiddo" Bael sent a withering glare toward his uncle "I know you must have had one hell of a night, we've been through Hogwarts too, your parents and I. Farewell and Yule parties tend to get messy, but do try to stay awake for ten minutes more. Then you'll get to bed."

His uncle's rant did spark an amused thought (his parents partying like horny teenagers almost made him gag, but still elicited a smile). Bael complied to his uncle's instructions to leave the dock where many wizards and children were leaving. Had he listened to the end of his uncle's speech, Bael would also have noticed the impeding family dinner that would ensue at eight o'clock this very night. But the only thought registering through Bael's brain was: _Why is it not summer time?_

Snow was surrounding them, spreading its cold breeze to unfortunate souls, covering not only the train's roof, but also the rails.

* * *

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	22. Snakes have taken hold

**Alright mates! Here we go for another chapter! Don't forget to read and review ^^**

* * *

 _Chapter 22: Snakes have taken hold_

Draco Malfoy was desperately trying to avoid Pansy Parkinson. As her presence next to him could attest, he was failing very badly at this task.

His girl year-mate was seething ever since the DADA class. Originally, the lesson had been pretty boring and Lockhart had had the brilliant idea to make Neville Longbottom act as a Yeti. As the story – Draco would never stoop so low as to treat the school book as more than fiction – goes, the Yeti stopped for his assailant's good looks. Consequently, Neville had to stop in front of the professor's dazzling smile. Lockhart had then taken the place of the poor humiliated student – and Draco had laughed insanely at that – and said with his never-fading smile "Beauty on the inside is the only thing that matters Yeti."

As expected, all the girls in the classroom has swooned at the last sentence. Which had the effect to wake up his cousin. Xerxès, or _Bael_ as he liked to be called in Hogwarts, had been asleep ever since he had stepped in the classroom. He had not bothered to apologize for his tardiness to the professor and had chosen to ignore him, and then had taken the last free space. Which had been between Millicent Bullstrode and Pansy Parkinson.

Thus, the following event had been memorable: Pansy had absolutely no qualms to try and pick on Xerxès. A very bad move in itself, because his cousin was just as volatile as Bellatrix when woken up. And Draco had no illusions about what would happen with him waking up next to Pansy and Millicent in DADA. _It must have been a nightmare_ , thought the blonde with a fond smile.

"Well, yours is certainly not shining like a beacon." Had sneered Pansy at Bael's – no, Xerxès's intention.

His cousin had refused to even look at her when he answered.

"Well," tone scathing, "beauty on the inside won't get you free drinks." He imitated on a faux-Lockhart's voice.

The remark in itself had been a bit savage and crude. But it was nothing Slytherin students were not already used to. No, what had set off Pansy that much had been the collective humor spreading to the other students in the classroom and Millicent _laughing_ at _her_ expense.

Draco too had laughed, and so had many others. But to Pansy's mind, Millicent's laugh had been an affront.

"Can you believe her gall?!" admonished the girl in the train on the return trip to London for the Christmas holydays, _two weeks after the incident_. Draco was glaring and cursing under his breath all outer divinities that led Pansy in his compartment.

"Beauty on the inside does not get you free drinks." Repeated the girl in a baby voice, "who does he think he is?"

All the others Slytherin in the train wisely chose not to point out Xerxès was a metamorphmagus and could take on any form he wanted. And his family was wealthier than Pansy's. And that he was smarter than her.

Draco sighed once again.

Discussions always led back to his cousin. Even his favorite sport, Quidditch. His good for nothing cousin had successfully soured his mood without even trying. The fact that a gryffindor chaser had suddely fell ill before the match and Xerxès had had to step in ... The Quidditch match had been a very sore event, especially with Xerxès playing for the other team – and winning too. Draco had counted: had he not been there, the whole match would have been done for, in favor of Slytherin. Even if that twat had told on them for the brooms.

What Draco hated the most was the fact his cousin had told the Potter Blood Traitor about the chicken suit he had worn as a baby. Of course, thrown like that in the middle of a match, it had surprised him. he had missed the snitch for that comment. So, yes, draco was a bit seething had the moment.

Draco sniffed, trying to forget about anything remotely close to his cousin. Which was not much lately. He had always been the talk of the house. Besides the Chamber of Secrets, of course.

"So, have anything on the Chamber and the Heir?" he asked forlornly, not really waiting for an answer. He already knew it too. "I'll ask my family over the holydays. They refused to tell me a thing in their letters. Just some words about mudbloods."

"Who cares?" drawled Theodore, for once leaving his silent glare of the passing landscape, "It's not like mudbloods are useful. They could all die and I still would not care."

"Too true." Grinned Draco, "This pest is getting larger by the year, says Mom. It would do us some good to get rid of them."

There.

The conversation was much better now.

They could even desecrate undeserving people some more.

"Withers was just the first in a long list" continued Draco, "First the Mudbloods, then the Blood-traitors. That definitely will cut down the useless sort. My father told me Hogwarts was not what it once was. Standards have fallen low in almost every field. Wizards can't recognize their own wand's end even after Hogwarts, just look at Smidger. And he's not the only one."

A sneer suddenly stopped the blonde.

"You could say that."

Xerxès stood at their compartment's door, eyes small, shoulders sagged.

"By the way, do you know what causes the lanterns in your common room to swing back and forth?"

"What the …" began Draco, wondering how his cousin ended there without anybody noticing, how he knew about their common room and at the same time leaving his seat in case of a duel, "Are you daft or what? Magic is everywhere. The Castle wills it to do so."

Draco gripped his wand tightly. He saw his cousin eyeing warily his wand, but his shoulder did not leave the door. His posture felt wholly at ease in the Slytherin compartment. The smile he sported reminded Draco too much of the saber tooth tigers on the Lestrange grounds.

"Of course not. My … dear cousin, can't you hear the damned scrubbing the foundations' walls? Their sheer number shooks the Castle ever so slightly, enough to wave the lanterns."

Draco scrunched his nose.

"This is just scar-stories for kids." Haughtily said Draco, behind him, he could feel his friends agreeing with him. "Legend also says guardians surrounded the common rooms. Well, I don't see them anywhere. So these damned souls of yours don't exist either."

Xerxès laughed.

"Yes! Legends. All of them. But so was the Chamber …"

"What's your problem?" grudged Pansy, clearly bored of the Gryffindor's antics. "Shouldn't you be at least anxious about it? You're a borderline blood-traitor, what with consorting with all these mud-bloods. You're probably on the Heir's to-kill list."

Xerxès whole demeanor changed radically. The off-beat attitude was getting threatening now, his eyes darkened to the point the irises color blended perfectly well with the black point.

"Perhaps, I'm already done for. The question remains: what will happen to you then? I leave and you all will get targeted, suspected of having killed me in a feud."

"Is that a threat?" muttered the girl, getting to her feet and trying to intimidate the taller boy. Xerxès creased his nose. The tension rose slightly, but the Gryffindor never drew his wand.

"Damn … you're really ugly up close." He breathed down.

This set off Pansy's wand. The few sparks that left the oak wand stayed inoffensive and Xerxès grinned his devious and nasty smile.

"You can't even control your own magic at almost thirteen. Beware of the Oscurus transformation, Pugginson."

Five wands were now pointed at Xerxès's form.

"Don't you dare repeat it." Stifled Pansy. "Leave, you coward."

In an exuberant wave, Xerxès disappeared from their sight. All the Slytherin in the room looked warily at the door before sitting back down. A silence had descended upon the small group. All students were trying to make heads or tails about the visit. Theodore was the first to pipe up.

"Ok, even for him, that was weird. Any idea of what that was for? Also, he knew something about the Chamber ... or it felt like it."

"It could be anything." Muttered Draco, resolutely looking outside the window, "he's always done whatever he wanted to, with no one to tell him to stop." He whispered.

"I think he knows something about the Chamber and the Heir." Finally said a beautiful blonde girl. Daphne Greengrass. She came from, remembered Draco absent-mindedly, one of the wealthiest family in Great-Britain, if not Europe. Even the rings adorning her right hand could attest to this. A trend his cousin seemed to follow as well, if the two rings on his index and annuaire fingers were anything to go by.

"Why would you think so?" wondered Theodore, peeling a banana out of nowhere.

"Is it not obvious? He knows the Castle by heart. He talks to it. He commands it sometimes. He's the only student to have ever angered the Castle and destroyed whole rooms and still get away with it quiet easily. I've seen Moon having it harder when she let her quill down. And now, with the Heir coming around, I bet you 20 galleons they've already fought."

 _Perhaps, I'm already done for_

The sentence seemed more sinister with some thoughts. Draco clenched his jaw tightly.

"A fight with him resulting as the winner? I don't get what he would gain by still leaving the Heir out of troubles then."

"Redeeming his position?" proposed Theodore.

"He does not think he's at fault." Spat back Draco.

"Access to every part of the Castle." Piped up Pansy, "What? Don't look at me like that. It's not like it's unconceivable. Bael, Xerxès – whatever – could be selfish like that."

"He's not dumb." Ushered Draco, "Why broadcast his knowledge now? That's stupid."

Theodore coughed slightly in his hand.

"We're talking about the guy who thought it would be a good idea to smuggle firecrabs in Lockhart's office. How smart was that?"

Draco blushed, embarrassed.

"That's different." He squeaked. And then Draco wondered why he was even trying to defend his cousin. They had not been on good terms since Hogwarts beginning. So he resigned.

"Isn't it for that his parents chose to bear another child?" said Theodore.

Draco shrugged again. He did not know, and did not want to know. His aunt's pregnancy had shocked him. Draco remembered when he had learnt it at the restaurant with his parents. His father had sighed something about Bella being grouchy again. And then, his mother had come in late, an unusual habit, and had had a radiant smile on her face.

" _Bella's pregnant!" she had said at Draco's face, her hand patting his father's shoulder. "The baby's healthy, for now. I can't wait to see it!"_

His father had almost spit out his drink at the words. He had even asked twice to be sure. Draco had just shrugged, not particularly delighted, nor feeling down at the prospect.

" _Stop it, Lucius. It_ is _a wonderful event. Let us hope she won't miscarry again." Sighed Narcissa._

" _Aunty miscarried before?" repeated Draco curiously._

 _His mother nodded._

" _Twice. It was before Xerxès."_

Draco frowned. He wondered if Xerxès knew that. He certainly never talked about it. Actually, he hardly ever talks about himself and his family. You have to pry and beg to get second-hand information from that little bugger.

"Draco?"

The boy turned his head toward Daphne. She was calling for him.

"What?" he asked.

She rudely stared him down, but Draco did not apologize.

"Do you know your future's cousin gender?" she repeated on a false pleasant tone.

Draco gulped. That stare could freeze some fire. His mother had the same when she was mad – and she had used it often times on him.

"Yeah. It's a girl."

"Oh, really?" gushed Pansy next to Draco, "And how will she be named?"

"Mom said we're going to do this traditionally. So, we'll have to wait for the stars to come out and Xerxès will chose one. Ans since my aunt's due for the end of February, there will be plenty of stars to choose from. I bet with my father he would take a fighting star name."

There was some snickering heard in the compartment.

"The poor girl …" cooed Pansy in an obnoxious voice, "Let's hope she won't take after her brother. Merlin knows that would be such a shame."

"Ah, no worries there." Replied Draco with a satisfying smile, "She will be a fine witch."

The conversation then was very boring, thought Draco. News – besides Hogwarts's attacks – were either scarce, either dumb. The new dress the famous actress Rolya McGrannon had worn was about the only piece of news remotely interesting. At least, mudbloods skulls marked with the 10 points circle had been entertaining to watch in the Daily Prophet, even if it had stirred up troubles.

"By the way," began Blaise Zabini, one of the quietest student in their year, "my father, being in the archeological department, told me the other day about some new excavations. Ruins dating from before Merlin!" he cheered.

People were now leaning in for more information, for the more curious (others went back to sleep). Very few was known about the ages before Merlin. There had been a complete shutdown in information.

"Yes," continued the boy, holding a letter in his hand, "The thing will go public in a few months, but as of now my father said the ruins seem to be a memorial of sorts."

"Ew." Sneered Pansy, "Like a cemetery?"

"Yes!" ushered Blaise in an excited whisper, "But – hold on tight – on their tomb, inscriptions say they are war heroes. And the sheer size of it revealed more than 10 000 structures! My Dad told me the evasive Queen's sepulture could very much be there, along with the original 28 wizards. Buried in the middle of nowhere after some huge war!"

Draco frowned.

"The original 28 … are you sure?"

"Yes! Relics and coat of arms were found." Finished Blaise, "But a lot of tombs were pillaged by people, and the protection wards withered with time … so a lot was lost."

"Do you have any names?" wondered Daphne, her eyes boring into Blaise's with intensity. The boy gulped.

"I'm not supposed to tell you …" Daphne narrowed her eyes and the boy capitulated after a promess to be in touch with an important racing broom maker – thank you Theodore, "Sentries names were recovered, Aeliam, Sidon and Morphic. On their tombs, they all have one of the Founders names on."

"And the Queen? Do we know more of her?" inquired Daphne, eyes bright with envy.

Blaise shrugged.

"My father told me they were still searching. But her name is held in very high regards. Something about hiding her identity."

A long silence fell before the question fell down like rain drops in a deluge. Blaise was quizzed for more knowledge but, as it was soon revealed, he did not know much.

"I can't wait to read more of it in the journal." Whined Theodore, the ruins specialist in their group.

Draco was only interested about the 28 sacred Wizards. Something he was sure all his friends were too. They were, after all, the very first pureblooded wizard to wield power and magic as strong as theirs.

"Look! King's Cross station is there." Showed Vincent Crabbe with his hand.

The gesture was ignored by everybody. They had already changed into their casual clothes long ago.

"Well, I see my parents. See you at Yule." Waved Daphne with a slight arrogant smile.

All the students imitated her, and left one by one the compartment to reach their parents. Draco was no exception and left right towards his parents. His mother was standing with his father in a corner of the station, all the while whispering some funny story going by the slight curved lips of his father. When they saw him marching toward them, they moved closer to greet him.

"Son, how was the term?" asked Lucius with a steady hand on his shoulder, greeting him with a slight hand pressure.

Draco positively beamed at his parents. He had so many things to say and ask them. So he embraced his mother and father and quickly left the station, Dobby following them with his trunk. They Apparated to the Manor's grounds in a few seconds. The squeezing feeling of Apparition left a bile taste in Draco's mouth, but fortunately for him, home was there to comfort him.

"Be ready for dinner at eight. We're going to my mother's." soothed his mother with a charming smile, "I doubt my sister will be there. Knowing her, she will have floo-called to cancel and place the blame on Xerxès or the baby."

Draco whined

"Why can't we do it too? I hate it."

"Because it's not proper. Be ready, Draco." Finished Narcissa with a small crease. "Lucius, be on your best behavior too. I don't want to hear anything about how uneducated the two of you are... Again."

The two males shrugged, both knowing full well there would be no reprieve for tonight.

"Can't we at least make your sister go?" wondered Lucius, "she knows how to make dinner interesting at least."

Narcissa smiled.

"Bella would probably hex someone if she were to go."

The three Malfoy came into the living room, stopping near the sofa before getting prepared for dinner.

"Can't you still try?" begged Draco, "Aunty listens to you. She will come. Last time, you left me alone with Granny for two hours and it was pure torture. If Xerxès's here, she won't even see me there."

His parents bit their lips, amused at the thought, Draco could tell. The boy harrumphed and left the living room to go in his own room. His sulking would not dissuade them to go.

 _Why do we have to go? There's not a single soul who likes to go there. It's a hell-hole._

Nonetheless, Draco had no choice and put on the nice dress robes his mother must have laid on the bed while he was taking a shower. Making a face at the fluttering bow tie, the boy discreetly exchanged it with a simple tie. He was not going to wear that offending piece of robe.

"All set." Finished Draco, patting his hair down to look like his father some more.

The young blonde Slytherin left his huge bedroom to go downstairs. His father was already there, reading the Prophet off-handedly in the sofa. The raging fire was only spreading an orange like light in immense room.

"Father." Greeted Draco.

His father looked up from the journal and put it down.

"Don't make this face Draco. I'm sure your Grandmother won't be nasty tonight."

Draco's face told him everything he actually thought about the future dinner.

"You do know that that Chamber of Secrets opening was of the time your Grandmother was in Hogwarts."

Now, Draco's interest was picked.

"Why did not you tell me in your letters? I'm always the last one to be aware of things around here." Sulked Draco.

Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"The last one? What are you on about?"

Draco bit his lips.

"I'm not sure … but it felt like Xerxès knew the Heir and all about the Chamber recently."

Lucius looked at him with an impenetrable stare, making Draco squirm.

"I'm sure it's a fluke." Said Lucius, eyes roaming over the fire, "He can't know …"

"Do you know something?" wondered then Draco, taking a seat in another sofa, waiting for his mother to come down. She should not be too long, eight was in 10 minutes or so.

"Only what has been said for centuries."

Draco sighed resolutely. He was not going to glean any news from his father.

Suddenly, his father's eyes were diverted to somebody behind Draco. The young child did not need to be a seer to realize his mother had finally made an appearance. Draco turned his head to smile back at his mother. She narrowed her eyes at his tie but did not say much besides the usual "lets go". The family departed quickly for the old Black Manor, where Narcissa and Bellatrix had grown-up into.

Draco felt his head turn sideways when he left the floo and landed directly in the main room of Black Manor. The portraits of famous family members adorned the walls and plunged the whole room in a serene silence. Draco smoothed his robes and waited patiently for his parents to come down the floo too, before getting further down and meet with his grandmother.

The flurry rush of the floo called back Draco's attention. His parents had finally come. Together, they left the room in search of Druella Black. There was no need to look much longer. The old witch, with her cane, was sitting in a sofa glaring accusingly at the three Lestranges.

"I thought they weren't coming." Mouthed Draco to his mother. Her slight upcurved smiled told Draco she had been behind the Lestranges coming.

"Mother." Greeted Narcissa, "Bella, dear, you look splendid."

Bellatrix was sulking, squeezed in between her husband and son – who seemed not to understand what he was doing here – and glared down at her little sister.

"I'm fat." She stated, distaste clear in her voice, showing her belly. She was seventh months pregnant after all.

"Bella, dear." Began Druella, "We already had this conversation. Four times."

Draco let a smile slide past his lips at the murderous look his aunt sported. The dinner was going to be so much smoother than expected; With some chance, it would also end on a "let's pick on Xerxès" time. It usually involved all the baby stories of his cousin – from the time he had been stuck in a fish form to the wings he had grown to fly – and some magical stunts just as dumb. And now that Hogwarts was in full swing, Draco could even participate and rub in all the stupid pranks his cousin had done. Yes, a good night was coming up.

Dinner began smoothly. It was just when the main dishes were out on the table that the real nice conversation began.

"And I hear there was an attack on Hogwarts." Finished Druella Black, a wine glass in her hand. She was sitting at the end of the table, her two daughters by her side. Draco and Xerxès were facing each other, stuck in between their own parents.

"Just a mudblood." Supplied Draco, "it was nothing astounding. And he was just petrified."

Draco smiled even more when he saw the squirming of his cousin.

"Which house?" demanded Druella, a sneer on her face.

"Hufflepuff." Draco finished, waiting for the adults to comment on it.

"A shame that pest wasn't killed." Muttered Bellatrix, not caring about the story. She was inspecting her nails.

Draco frowned, wanting more than that for a reaction.

"it was Slytherin's heir! He opened the chamber of Secrets!" replied Draco.

Druella was the one to answer him.

"Ah, well. There's nothing to fear then. Mudbloods will soon depart. Back in my days, when the Chamber had been opened, that Myrtle girl died. Good riddance, I say. She was such a chore."

Draco startled. He had not been aware somebody had died before.

"A good Avada Kedavra probably ended her." Finished the old witch in a thunder, laughing something only she could understand.

A clattering sound resounded in the dinner room. Xerxès had let his fork slip.

"Sorry." He muttered in a yawn, summoning Marlo – the house elf of Druella Black - to fetch him another fork.

"You did not tell us, son." Said Rodolphus to his son, reproach in his voice.

Xerxès narrowed his tired eyes.

"It must have slipped my mind."

Draco frowned. Mark Withers's prone form was not something you could forget so easily. Xerxès was outright lying. What Daphne had told was slowly being confirmed.

 _He's protecting the Heir. But why?_

"Enough with this talk." Ushered Narcissa, "Mudbloods have nothing to do with us. Let them rot. Draco, tell us about your term."

Draco grimaced.

"We're learning the confringo charm with Flitwick. He says we should be able to pull it off with some more enthousiasm. But the worst class is DADA." Draco watched his cousin, waving him to continue. His cousin did so reluctantly.

"Lockhart's … particular." Said Xerxès after drinking a long shot a water in his glass, "He's awful actually."

Draco butted in.

"Lockhart threw Xerxès outside the window once." he gleefully said.

Xerxès's hair turned navy blue. He was contemplating Draco's words.

"Xerxès." Warned Bellatrix, "What's that story again?"

"A rumor." He simply said, "I just can't seem to remember such an unimportant story." He dead-panned

Draco snickered. That flying session with Lockhart had made the Castle irate at the professor. Lockhart had been harassed for days by professors and the Castle, not to forget the never-ending pranks of the Gryffindors.

"I dare hope you two boys are the firsts in your classes." Whispered Druella.

Xerxès rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. It's not that hard to learn vertebrate transfiguration and animated charms. It's not something _you_ can say."

"Say what now." Claimed the old witch.

"Your Hogwarts record is astounding grandmother." Smiled Xerxès with a stack of paper in his other hand appearing out of nowhere.

Draco saw his mother hiding a smile with his aunt, both exchanging knowing stares.

"How did you get those?" whispered the old witch. "I destroyed these papers when I left the school."

Xerxès smiled.

"You would not believe how much of a good memory one Niggellus Black has."

Rodolphus patted his son's head with an endearing smile.

"How did you end up in his portrait's presence, anyway?"

Xerxès smiled back.

"Well, Snape seems to be out to get me. I dare say it has something to do with Mom."

Bellatrix cackled madly.

"I always said he was not reliable." Said the witch. "But at least, he can prove himself to be useful at times. Anyway, Cissy told me about that Quidditch match against Gryffindor, Draco. You're the Seeker, is that right? How did that end up?"

Draco's mood soured down. He glared at his cousin.

"We lost."

"An humiliation." Claimed Xerxès, "Slytherin was utterly thrashed."

"Don't you have some pride?" snickered Druella, a pointed glare at Draco, "How did that even happen? Slytherin has not lost a quidditch game against Gryffindor for eons."

"I say you should blame the Seeker who didn't catch the snitch." Piped Xerxès, very happy with himself.

Fortunately for Draco, his father went to his rescue.

"Well, had it not been for you, Gryffindor would not have scored either." Calmly stated Lucius, sipping on his firewhiskey glass.

Xerxès frowned.

"Oh? You played for Gryffindor?" wondered Druella, "I was not aware of this. Trying to be like Sirius, ain't you?" the witch condescendingly looked at her grandson with distaste. "You've been a disappointment from the very beginning."

 _And here it comes_ thought Draco, watching the interaction raptly. He could not wait for the drama. Druella would probably talk about the accidental bout of magic Xerxès had found funny to do.

"Is that what you were told when you failed to birth a descent male heir?"

Draco ducked under the table as soon as the first words left Xerxès mouth. His cousin knew exactly what to say to throw people into a fit of rage. It was the first time he was really answering his grandmother though. And that was something. Draco was right to do so when he heard the tale-tell sound of crushed glasses reach his ears.

"Has your old age impaired your sight already?" continued Xerxès, his voice tinged with anger.

Draco stayed where he was for a good ten minutes – the time it took to hear Xerxès and Druella throwing insults at each other with some spells.

"Would you two stop it now." Ceased Bellatrix in the middle of some insult. She was looking bored out of her mind. "Stop antagonizing the two of you. Or I hex you." She added when her words did not sink in.

 _That is why we never go out when we do family dinners. You simply can't go out with them._

"Good. Now let's eat, I'm hungry."

Sielnce reigned over the table, Xerxès and his grandmother still sending withering glares to each other while his father was making small talk.

"Hahahaha!"

The laugh came from one of the portraits in the room. An old man, with a huge black beard and rotting teeth was seen smiling.

"Thou art no lost your words Athelin."

"Shut up. I'm not in the mood for your archaïcs words." Said Xerxès in a scathing tone. "And my name is not Athelin." he muttered darkly under Narcissa's glare.

The portrait seemed offended by the words.

"I threed with the greatest, Sentinel." Sneered the old man, "Thrum I know. Disrespectful brat."

The old man portrait's was stupefixied by Bellatrix.

"Why does he keep talking like that?" She muttered.

"Bella!" a scandalized Narcissa ushered, "He's an honorable elder!"

"I won't show respect to a dead man talking about how low we have fallen."

Draco pointedly tried to leave with his father while his mother and aunt were arguing about respecting the paintings and Xerxès and Druella were shouting again at each other. On the far-corner of his vision, Draco could already see Rodolphus leaving quietly, dodging his Druella outstretched hands by a few. She was only hammering some obnoxious words here and there and screeching hellishly at Xerxès's prone form.

"Draco!" hissed Lucius, "take the floo. We don't need to be here anymore. Your mother will be more than enough."

Draco gulped.

"Isn't Mom going to be mad?"

Lucius pursed his lips.

"If you want to stay to admire the Black fury, I'm not staying. Last time, Rodolphus ended up in Saint-Mangoose for a week. Now, come son."

* * *

Bael felt a pounding head-ache.

His mind had been wandering for some time in and out of space, lingering a few precious seconds on reality. Really, he had no idea what was happening. First, he knew he had boarded on the train. Somewhere in the corridor, he had been hit. And then he had woken up alone, in a compartment. And should he need to mention he was on the _return_ trip for the winter holidays? wasn't it supposed to be in December? and last time he checked, it was nearing the end of november ... Anyhow, he had blacked out again. And this time, he had stayed alive the whole night for a magnificent dinner.

He had realized what was happening when he had seen his cousin's face looking oddly satisfied. Bael had narrowed his eyes and repressed throwing up right in front of him. His head-ache had then just started to act up again.

"You've been a disappointment from the very beginning." Came his grandmother's voice somewhere on his left.

Bael had been in a sour mood when he had realized everything was spiraling out of control, that somebody somewhere was tempering with his mind – because it must have been that if he could not even remember his Hogwarts's term and if he had a pounding headache too – and was playing with his brain. So, when the reproach had left his grandmother's mouth as if it were the most natural affirmation ever, Bael could not have helped it. He said exactly what he was thinking. In retrospect, it probably was not his brightest idea.

"Is that what you were told when you failed to birth a descent male heir?"

He had no time to duck – and he had seen Draco do exactly what he had wanted to – the spell. His grandmother had gone for the classic stupefy, but the spell had missed him completely by a few feet and shattered a nice-looking vase.

"Has your old age impaired your sight already?" gauded the metamorphmagus.

The splitting head-ache had been getting stronger and was slowly taking its hold. Something was compelling him to take the knife on the table.

Bael frowned, suddenly much more aware. Why would he take a knife? What for? He had no chicken to cut in his plate. He closed his eyes for an instant before waking up under his father's shaking hands.

"Hurry up, we're leaving before your mother and her sister blow the place up."

Bael looked around and saw effectively his mother and grandmother arguing. In the middle of the argument, Narcissa was there, and going from the nasty expression on her face, she was going to take her part very soon.

"Where are the others?" Asked Bael, rubbing his skull discreetly.

"Gone. Those little cowards left at the first minute trouble came up."

Bael did not ask for a better incentive. He did not even know in the first place why they had been invited to a family dinner. It was common sense not to bother his mother – and now that she was pregnant, she was easily bothered and ten times as frightening as before. Not a good mix. And just as the head-ache was coming back again, Bael managed to take the floo powder and go home. He landed right on the floor, unable to keep up. He was suddenly drained of his energy.

 _What is happening to me?_

The metamorphmagus could not make heads nor tails about the situation. Soon, the fire flared up again. His father must have finally come.

"What are you doing?" he asked, amusement shining in his eyes, "Rab' did say you had partied all night before. At least try to get in your bed before sliding like a sloth on the floor."

Bael grunted, not in the mood for a banter or a nice talk with his father.

He was lifted by his father's wand, and stayed on his feet with a lot of effort.

"Also, about naming your sibling, since we're going to this traditionally-"

"When did we decide that?" cut Bael

His father's grip on his arm tighten.

"Two weeks ago. And we sent you a letter and you replied ..." Rodolphus's brows creased when he saw the blank look his son gave him, "Xerxès, did you put too much Dragon moore in your potion"

"What? No! I've done it for years and I have never been wrong in the doses!"

"Then what is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with me?" repeated Bael, feeling scandalized at his father's words. How could he accuse him? And why was he reacting so violently lately? "I'm your son! There! You and mom are the worst! I wish you never were my parents and that you were rotting in Azkaban!" he screamed.

The slap he received was well deserved for.

Bael did not talk to his father for the remainder of the holydays. His mother also avoided him like the plague. Celebrations had been heavy for the metamorphmagus, when he had bothered to be awake for them.

Missing memories were Bael's new nightmares for the holydays. He could not wait to be back at Hogwarts, where his friends might tell him more about it.

* * *

 **The chapter was fillerish but I really like writing the Maldoy family and their relatives.**

 **Again, leave a review, a like and/or fav' ^^**

 **See you tomorrow**


	23. Parselmouth secrets

**Hello guys!**

 **Me again!**

 **So, for today's chapter ... time to get on the real thing! Also, no question, so we can move on ;)**

 **Thanks for all the reviews and fav and follow! It's awesome! Keep it up guys ^^**

 **Read and reviews!**

* * *

 _Chapter 23: Parselmouth secrets_

Hogwarts was the safest place in Great Britain. That was what every magical child was led to believe growing up. Never had the Castle had been known to be in strife, never had there been a grand siege. It had stood on neutral grounds for ages now. The Founders had willed it so, and so had their will carried on.

Ron contemplated these thoughts briefly as he slowly mounted the many stairs of the Castle. Neville and Bael had gone to the greenhouse for their botanic essay and Hermione had rushed to the library, in a desperate need of more information on her homework. As he rummaged through the corridors aimlessly, Ron remembered the holydays.

Christmas – and its magic - had been a very nice holyday there. His family had gathered around, like every Christmas, they had talked and laughed and then eaten like no tomorrow. At the very beginning, Ginny had fallen ill, but it had soon healed with a good potion their mother had administered. Letters exchanged with Neville and Hermione had proved to be a good changing factor in Ron's mood. The Heir was nowhere near their minds anymore.

Back in the train, when Ron and Neville had boarded together – without meeting resistance of any kind this time, to their relief – they had immediately looked for Bael. The boy was a mess. Sprawled against the sofa seat, hair in disarray – a rare event because Bael took a lot of effort to make his hair look perfectly straight and clean and in the right place – he looked positively mutinous.

"Hey, you spent good holydays?" asked gently Neville, sitting next to the window, as far away as possible from Bael's wand.

Bael glared at him.

"I might have told my parents they should have spent their life in Azkaban, right to their faces. Can you imagine how that went?" he sarcastically told the two boys.

Ron winced.

"How did that even get to leave your mouth?"

Bael shrugged. He did not know.

"I've been sleeping with an eye opened just in case now. So you won't mind me taking a nap. I've been severely sleep-deprived."

Ron and Neville let their friend sleep unbothered for the rest of the ride. Hermione had joined them a few minutes after the talk and she had shaken her head at their metamorphmagus friend.

That left Ron alone in the Gryffindor common room right now.

As a matter of fact, the young wizard was far from not being busy. He had some serious pranks to prepare. For his brothers – revenge he shall have for the Chritsmas duck farce – for Bael – because he felt like it – and for Malfoy – is there really a need for an explanation here?

But, as he wanted to set his bags free on the ground, the young boy had to refrain. The ever-so gentle Castle had suddenly decided to create a deep sand under Ron's feet. In the middle of the common room.

Ron was positively stuck. Racking his head for ideas – his wand was too far out of reach, he would have sunk deeper into the sands trying and failing to reach the stick – he had to wait for passing students to help him. Fortunately, fellow Gryffindors almost always took the time to help distressed students. Which probably was the core problem. Ron was not a distressed student. People would surely only laugh at him or think of it as another prank gone wrong.

"Help." Croaked Ron

"I know what you mean." Blew some undescript student behind Ron's back. Ron started at the voice. He had no idea somebody was standing right behind him. Was he here the whole time? He had not heard him.

"Hey there." Began Ron, only to be ignored by the tall and lanky boy.

"Hum." Tried again the red head, "Any idea of how to get out?"

The tall boy looked at him in the eyes.

"I don't know. Lockhart's duel club seems unavoidable if you ask me. I just hope he won't take me for a dummy. I heard about what happened to Bael the first day."

Ron choked.

"You could just … not go."

The tall boy snorted at him.

"Yeah, right. As if."

And just like that he left, leaving an appalled Ron slowly sinking further into the sands, trying to understand how the boy had misunderstood him.

"HELP!" came the muffled and finally panic stricken voice.

* * *

"You look grouchy." Simply said Hermione to Ron at the Table on the evening.

She and her three friends were eating some fresh watermelon and some dubious food in Ron's case. Said boy was actually still sour about the castle's prank and could still feel the sand's grain in his left shoe. He merely sent a withering glare toward his female friend and turned toward Neville.

"I was taking roots in the common room while you three were who knows where." He reproached.

A small laugh escaped Bael's mouth.

"What? Come on, mate, you can't deny it. It _was_ funny to watch. I think even Fred took some pictures for your wedding day. Just in case, he said."

Ron turned the very color of his hair in what had to be a record time.

Neville ignored the beginning of the banter between the two boys, and spoke exclusively to Hermione, who was enjoying herself with the show Ron's wails were giving to the audience.

"Did you hear the rumor?" wondered Neville as he took a spoonful of dessert.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Which one? You'll have to be a bit more specific than that, I'm afraid."

Neville smiled.

"Lockhart's dueling lessons."

Hermione furrowed her brows.

"Yes, I heard about that." The sour look on the girl's face told Neville how much she thought of that idea, "I think it's a good idea … but I'm not too sure of the professor. I mean, look at what he did to poor Cho's arm after she broke it on the Quidditch pitch."

Neville winced at the remembrance. That had not been very pretty, at all. Fortunately, since the professor had vanished the arm's bones and nerves, Cho had not felt a single tinge.

"Perhaps Flitwick will accompany us." Said Neville, "I heard the lesson was compulsory for third year students and under. And Flitwick used to be a dueling Champion. But I guess Lockhart would teach us anyway …"

A cry reached Neville's ears. He turned his head sharply toward the origin and found his metamorphmagus friend in a frenzy. His hair was going through every color Man could see.

"That man can't teach!" he whispered scandalized, "I'm not going anywhere near his instrument of torture! Even my mother is better than him in teaching dueling. Actually, I'm fairly certain she has more right than him to teach it." claimed dramatically the boy.

Neville rolled his eyes. First, he'd rather have Lockhart teach him dueling, even if the lesson proved to be a walking disaster, than have Bael's mother teach him. Now, that would have been particularly degrading for his self-esteem. He could imagine how that could go. Though, his friend might not be too far from the truth when he said Lockhart could not teach a single move in self-defence. The wizard was hardly strong enough or independent enough. But he knew Bael would come to the lesson – only because he would be too curious not to attend and to compare it to his mother's _teaching_. He probably would leave with Ron a few moments after the first minutes of the lesson anyway. Bael always had something on his mind that was _not_ school related and was thus too busy "to care" as he once had said when looking at a history of magic essay.

"Don't diss a professor." Reminded Hermione on her serious tone.

"Yeah, mate, don't bad-mouth adults." Repeated Ron in a very feminine voice.

Bael narrowed his eyes at his best friend, chosing to forget Hermione's comment lest he began an argument with the witch at the table.

"Are you still sour about the egg thing?"

Neville butted in.

"What is that? A new prank?"

Ron shook his head.

"No, I insulted _otters_ in front of him and he decided I needed an egg bath. It was Sunday before leaving Hogwarts for the holydays."

"Otters?" sweat-dropped Neville.

Bael scoffed.

"You don't have any appreciation of otters."

"If you say so …" whispered Neville abashed.

"They are cute." Finished the metamorphmagus, "I have four at the Manor. My dad offered them to me as a gift when I was born. They're as old as I am."

Hermione spoke then.

"I thought you had saber tooth tigers."

"Nah, those were my uncle's gift for my third birthday. I think. For our magical creatures park. That is why the garden is usually forbidden to strangers … some people got eaten. Dad told me once his own grand-father had not been careful enough and he had lost a limb." Mused aloud the boy a bit calmer than he had been about Lockhart.

"Obviously." Deadpanned Hermione, "Do these otters of yours have a special power of some kind too?" she asked irritated, trying to change the course of conversation.

Bael shrugged.

"Nope. They just annoy the nifflers and pick fights with them. I sometimes take them to Malfoy Manor to liven things up a bit." Bael grinned and turned to see his cousin on the Slytherin table. "My Aunt was livid by the end of the day. The little monsters rummaged through every nook and corner and stole every shiny pieces." Laughed the boy, "yeah, some nice day, it was."

Neville really thought his friend was the very definition of weird.

"By the way, don't wait for me tonight. I'll be doing a bit of exploration. There are some walls I've never seen before down the dungeons area."

"Can I come?" asked Ron.

"Yeah! Just don't get lost." Teased back Bael.

"Honestly boys, don't you have any sense of self-preservation? The Heir is still around and petrifying people!" hissed Hermione. Neville agreed with her. "It's not the time to go around for exploration. It could perfectly be –"

"'Mione." Began Ron, cutting Hermione "the Heir has not attacked since Withers. I say he's a coward and stopped altogether."

Bael's glazed eyes were alight too.

"Come, Bael!" ushered Ron.

On the way, Ron pushed Ginny and Maureen – who were talking animatedly about some potion – and led Bael downstairs.

"I so am not helping them tomorrow." Muttered Neville, knowing full well Ron would forget to wake up and Bael would have simply disappeared under his covers. "McGonagall's going to be furious."

Hermione tugged at his arm.

"At least, with Bael and the Castle, we can hope they'll be fine. I don't think something could ever happen to the both of them."

Neville shrugged, not particularly interested in the blatant show of favoritism. Which reminded him he had an essay to finish before the end of dinner or Snape would have his hide. Bael had left some notes in the corner of his dubious bag, perhaps he could reach for some help? No one would notice, right?

* * *

"Hurry up mate!" shouted Bael, high on his way to the dungeons, "or bad Slytherins are gonna shred you to tiny itsy bitsy pieces!"

Ron was almost on his friend's heels.

"Don't say that." Muttered uneasily the red-head, "You know every time you talk about them, somehow, they appear right on the corner."

"Idiot. That's only because their common room is around here."

Ron still nagged Bael not to attract people. They continued to walk in the dungeons area unspotted.

"You've been going there for a long time now, haven't you?" suddenly asked Ron as he saw himself lose his tracks. He was sure that statue had never stood here before.

Bael's shivering hair (frizzles to straight) told him he had been spot on.

"Yeah. But the Castle refuses to let me pass through the walls. I just … made the whole tour."

"Perhaps, that's because there is nothing for once."

Bael snorted and stopped in his track. He looked at Ron in a devious smile and told him to follow him very closely. Ron would have to, if only he could have seen him.

In a matter of seconds, he had lost his best friend from sight and had just reached a wall. It had been in the general location of Bael's feet. And even begging the Castle, the walls did not seem to move at all. Unfazed by the frustration of one of its student, the Castle answered accordingly to people knocking or trying to draw a wand against one of his walls. It dumped some unnamed substance on Ron's head.

The red-head swore.

"What are you doing?" came Bael's voice once again.

Ron abruptly turned his head to the right. He had been sure there had been a wall here a few seconds ago.

"Bael!" cied out Ron, "I did follow you! But the Catsle seemed hell bent on me not doing so." Grumbled at last the boy.

His metamorphmagus friend was in deep thoughts.

"That's weird. The Castle never acts like this normally. Anyway, stay closer to me then. That way you won't crash into a wall or something."

Ron gulped.

"What are we doing here? I thought you gave Hermione the exploration excuse for us to plan some more pranks. You know … since we haven't done anything worthwhile recently … and our linked parchments are nowhere near perfection.

"I know." Muttered Bael, "I think a proteiform spell on each one should suffice, coupled with eraser ink after a count-down. And we need an alert of sorts, so perhaps the stinging hex. But these spells are hard to perform all at once, and I've told you over and over spells like these need to be done at the same time and not separately. It's unheard of."

Ron heaved a sigh.

"We should just ask Hermione then."

"yeah … I'll ask her later. We need communication here. I honestly won't stand another summer or holidays cut from you guys."

Suddenly, Bael stopped walking, a shiver Ron identified as excitation running through his friend's back. His hair was shifting ever so slightly too. He took Ron's arm and made it touch the walls just as fast as he had stopped.

"Feel that? The walls are greasy. That – you probably can't see it, it comes from my abilities, they allow me to shift my eyesight and see some form of magic – is not normal. There is magic at work for sure, but like, a lot more than in the corridors. It's … hard to explain but the atmosphere here is heavier too. There is something really strong that pervades through these thick walls. They are made of Goblin iron-wrought steel. That is supposed to stop magic." Bael stopped talking deep in thought, "You'll soon realize it, the Castle's will is not as mighty here, if not non-existent. I say it's because of this steel, but there is still something strong behind it."

Ron frowned.

"How do you know that?"

Bael pointed his head.

"As I said, you can't see it. I can though. And I'm telling you, there is something behind these walls, all under the Castle as we know it."

Ron's eyes perked up.

"Could it be the Chamber of Secrets? And that magic must be the monster that went on a killing rampage years ago. And that is petrifying students."

It was now Bael's turn to frown. He looked at Ron with glazed eyes, understanding far from dawning on his mind.

"No."

The reply was swift and very harsh.

"Look, these lines on the wall are asymmetrical. This, here, doesn't looko like the castle's foundtations. it's way too old. I think they date back to before the Castle. Which means, we're no longer in Hogwarts, but somewhere deeper. And the Chamber is supposed to be hidden at Hogwarts."

Ron seemed unsure.

"That place is creepy when you say it like that."

Bael shrugged.

"There is no one else here. I told you I made the tour already. Nothing. No ghost, no pets, no bugs. Just old air." Bael looked at Ron sharply, "Some dark secret is lurking around!" he exclaimed, cheeks going pink with tension.

Ron shivered.

"I can't say I'm interested. Seems just as boring as Neville's talk on new plants found near Azkaban. Some cure for Dementors or what-not. Actually, even that is more interesting." He dead-panned.

Bael seemed offended.

"Fine." He grumbled, "Let's go back."

Ron made a sorry gesture.

"You can stay if you think you can find something about _walls_ … of all the thing …" Ron left with a shrug, wiping the grease on his hand on his robes. "You'd better come back too. It's late I think …"

But Ron was already talking to a wall.

* * *

"Already?" wondered Hermione, curious to see Neville having finished one of his potion essay.

Neville bit the inside of his cheeks, not particularly proud to tell his friend he had used a good part of Bael's essay to finish his own. At least, Bael made sense. And his hand writing was neat.

"Uh …" Neville cleared his throat, "Yeah. I was a bit inspired."

The small white lie was easily seen through. Hermione's eyes pierced him but did not reprimand him. She already knew how much of a chore the potion essay was to him.

The two Gryffindors were cozily sitting before a table in the common room, the cracking bonfire the Castle had created for the night, soothing the students frenzy. Some were actually lulled into sleep near the sofa. Just as Neville was stuffing his ink and quill away, the portrait's door opened on Ron.

"Ew … Is that goo?" asked Hermione, subtlety pushing far from Ron her books, as the boy approached them.

"Why did you anger the Castle?" simply asked Neville, used to his friend's story.

Ron plopped down next to his two friends, both trying not to touch Ron.

"Nah, I just tried to hit the Castle's walls. I guess I got what I deserved." Mumbled the red head, "What were you doing?"

"Homework. You know, the thing you are so desperately trying to avoid.", sarcasm seeped into Neville's voice, "I just finished my potion essay."

"Oh … it was on the proprieties of the cornshrank … I think …"

"No. it was on the napel." Muttered Hermione, "Nevermind that, I'm used to it now."

Ron shrugged and tugged a pillow to put it behind his back.

"What a nice night."

"Mate, you stink." Pointed out Neville, "See, Hermione's leaving and so are all the girls in our vicinity."

Ron _shrugged_ again.

"Sucks to be you then."

* * *

"Black"

"Absent" answered Ron lazily to Lockhart's droning voice one day in the middle of January with a yawn. The professor did not seem particularly unhappy not to see Bael. He was rather content if his smile was anything to go by. Less trouble, he was right in that way. He did not even got angry to realize Bael had been missing the DADA lesson three times in a row.

"Ah, let's hope he will make a swift recovery from his latest encounter with the Castle's pranks." joked the teacher.

Snickers were heard throughout the classrooms, but the professor continued to review the list and tick absent people.

"Brown"

"Present"

"Bullstrode"

"Present" grunted the girl.

"Chaaron"

"Present"

And thus went the DADA lesson, taking a few precious 10 minutes to call on the class names. Strangely enough, for a class of Gryffindor and Slytherin, people were oddly quiet. Had Lockhart been looking well, he would have seen students taking either naps or stifling yawns every few seconds. There had been some parties in both common rooms and the result came in the form of hardly listening students. It did not bother the teacher at all, considering all there was to do was reading some silly books and imitate – for Neville only – the bad and nasty creature. Fortunately for Neville, the teacher spared him for the lesson, and asked Ron to take up on the mean guy role.

The strangled noise was as good as he would get from the boy. The croaking and hoarse sounds were hardly understandable. As expected, a few remarks were heard from the Slytherin portion of the classroom but Neville and Hermione urged Ron not to listen to the jeers – even if there were some truth to the not human-like language act Ron was showing to the whole classroom. The reddening of the ears was a dead giveaway of Ron's anger, and it unfortunately spurred on the Slytherins.

"I swear." Muttered Ron at the end of the lesson, almost reaching for his wand to hex Malfoy. The boy had been preening in front of him in the corridors before leaving with his crowd, "were he not Bael's cousin, I would have clobbered him."

"Don't worry, you have my full-on approval." Agreed Neville, thinking back to the remarks Malfoy had sprouted, "he's a bigot."

"Come on." Soothed Hermione.

"How can you stay that calm?" wondered Ron, "He insulted you as well! He kept saying mud-blood!"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"We're not going to change him. It comes with the package. Now let's hurry before we're late for transfiguration. And I dare hope Bael will show his sorry face or we're going to feel McGonagall's full fury." And the witch added mumbling on an after-thought, "Today was the due date for the Apparition spell."

Both boys, who had been strolling slowly in the corridors quickened their pace.

"Ah yeah. It was awful." Muttered Neville, "I spent nearly 2 hours on that piece of parchment. I took Bael's one to help me but, frankly, I did not understand what he wrote in his damn essay …"

"Why in Merlin's beard did you think it would be a good idea to look into the resident transfiguration genius essay?" asked Ron with a grin, "I asked Hermione."

"And you got a book thrown into your face ..." replied just as fast Neville.

A coughing sound reached the two male Gryffindors.

"Could you at least pretend I'm existing here." Sarcastically grunted Hermione.

Fast apologies came out of both boy's mouths and turned to the right to get into the transfiguration classroom. But just as the three friends were heading over the Transfiguration classroom, the old teacher came out in a storm. Her eyes seemed ablazed with fury as she looked at her three students.

"It wasn't me!" began Ron, "I swear it!"

McGonagall narrowed her eyes and stared at Ron.

"Go back to your dorms immediately!" she thundered, leaving soon after without another form of yelling. Clearly, she did not care about Ron latest prank. "I don't want anybody in the corridors." She shouted.

Behind her, the three friends were perplexed. They followed the orders and came back to their dorm without any other incentive, but they all speculated about what could have possibly canceled their lesson. All the other students that were supposed to have that lesson too, were coming out of the classroom. All of them seemed not to know what was happening.

"We don't know." Answered the Patil twin to Hermione when she asked what was that all about, "the professor was there waiting behind her desk, as usual, and then a silvery form went into the room. It said something none of us understood and then McGonagall left in a fury and ordered everybody to their common room. It was … scary actually."

Hermione thanked the girl and hastily followed her fellow Gryffindor to the seventh floor. She had no envy to be alone right now. She caught up to her two friend and explained the situation to them very quickly.

"What do you think that was about?" wondered Neville before entering the common room with other lions.

For a nice change, the common room was peaceful, with no magical battle created by the Castle. Students coming inside all sported delighted faces when they realized it. Ron led his two friends in a corner near the raging fire.

"It could be anything …" mumbled Ron. "I hope it's not another Withers. That would suck."

The mood was dampened. Time seemed to pass by so fast, Neville could have sworn it had been day-light when he had last looked at the window. It was now reaching the night and the park's lights were out floating wildly, spreading their orange and comforting glow. People still kept coming inside the common room, but nobody breached the rules to leave. The Castle was not allowing it anyway. Students were literally trapped inside without any knowledge of what was happening. Murmurs were running in the common room like a wild-fire too. Spreading its infectious wings to any naïve students. People began to notice the absents fairly easily then.

"Bael and Colin are missing." Reported Hermione with a frown. She was standing on a sofa, trying to look above people's head.

With a gulp, the friends looked around for confirmation.

"You don't think something happened to them, do you? Like … with the Heir." asked Neville, throat heavy.

"It's impossible." Replied Hermione quickly. She continued in a rush to explain her thoughts, "Bael is probably the safest student out here. I mean, he's the Castle's pal. I'm sure the Castle would not let his precious friend be petrified by the Heir. And he's a pureblood. Of course, nothing will happen to Bael. Colin, though … He could be attacked."

"Right. Bael's a pureblood." Repeated Lavande Brown not far away from the three Gryfindors. She must have listened to their conversation, "He comes from a long family of Slytherin. I say he could be the Heir."

The rumor froze the three friends. As a whole, they stood up, fury etched on their faces. Ron was the first to stifle.

"Don't you dare repeat it!" he hissed, a red color slowly spreading to his cheeks. "Bael would never do that!"

But the damage was already done. The shroud of suspicion had already been cast and there was no doubt people had noticed Bael coming back late in the common room – if he came back. Perhaps he was fomenting and planning attack behind their backs?

Aghast, Ron was saved a brawl with a fourth year student named Cormac McLaggen. McGonagall had just swooped in. Her lips were spread thin and her eyes were the most expressive. A burning fire was resting in her orbs. She scarcely cleared her throat.

"As you all must have realized by now, some students are missing."

A hush fell over the gathering crowd. McGonagall gazed at everybody, her eyes cutting deep in all the troublemakers faces. She stopped a bit for Neville but it could have his imagination.

"Mr Creevey, Mr Polkiss and Miss Duran were all found petrified."

The students all shouted all at once at the same time, it seemed. Only one asked for Bael. McGonagall pursed her lips even more.

"Mr Black and Miss Tonks have both disappeared also."

"I knew it" screamed Lavande Brown, "They must the Heirs! It makes sense! They are related through their mothers and everybody knows the Black family is hardly innocent!"

"SHUT UP!" screamed even louder than Lavande, Ron. He was held back by Fred and George but both Neville and Hermione had almost drawn their wand.

"ENOUGH!" hollered the Transfiguration teacher, "I won't tolerate any fight among my students! Is that clear? And in this Castle, people are innocent unless proven guilty."

The silence came back with a lot of efforts, although the glares Ron kept sending to Lavande meant the story was far from over.

"Right. From now on, a curfew will be put in place. Teachers are to accompany each class to its other class, no exception made."

From then on, the teacher stood abruptly and listed a long list of new rules – mostly about security. She ushered the students to bed a few minutes afterwards, saying house elves would bring down food for dinner but that lessons were canceled for the end of the day.

"I can't believe it." Muttered Neville, staring down at Bael's stuff on his bed. As always, his clothes were perfectly folded and trinkets of every sort littered his bed. Forlornly swaying its pages, a book was opened on the pillow. It was completely blank, noticed Neville, save for the first few pages. Scribbled down in Bael's neat handwriting were a few spells and drawings.

Neville kept staring at it, hoping Bael would pop up from anywhere. It usually was the case. But this time, a sinking feeling made him realize, tonight, he would probably not see Bael. Nor would he the next ones.

Ron had not piped a word and had ben staring at the window-sill with a longing that was fooling no one. He had planned to leave the common room to look for his best friend, that much was clear. And Neville's nagging not to go, in fear of retribution of the Heir had not seemed to deter him in the very least.

On the other side of the dormitory, both Seamus and Dean were processing the information, not keen on believing their missing dorm-mate was completely innocent. Neville suspected that particular thought to be the reason Ron wanted to leave. He was fierce in his protection of his best friend. That was for sure.

"Ron. Don't listen to them." Grumbled Neville. He was almost on the verge of dropping dead on his bed.

"Whatever." Whispered the red-head. "Sleep well." He muttered.

That had been the last words Neville had heard before plunging into a deep slumber.

* * *

"From the recent events, I can only applaud my genius to have thought of a remedy. You, my dear students, are in dire need of lessons of dueling!"

Lockhart was shouting and trying to smile at the same time. Standing on a stool, a long scene behind him being created from nothing for the students to fight, the professor was trying to attract the student's attention with his white teeth – something that worked well on the female population. All second and third year were attending the lesson, only a mere day after the new attacks.

Ron, Neville noticed, was glaring at the teacher with outright anger.

"He's wasting our time." He kept on whispering to anyone within earshot.

Neville knew very well his friend meant wasting time to go look for the culprit behind all these attacks. And find Bael. The latest lead both Hermione and Ron seemed to believe was all centered around Draco Malfoy and nasty stories of inheritance. Ron had told him that if Tonks and Bael were removed from the inheritance scheme, Malfoy would become the next in line for the Black fortune. It could be fitting. Especially since Malfoy was not doing anything to alleviate rumors around his family. He did not appear worried both his cousins were suddenly gone. If ever, he seemed to toughen them up.

 _It's too fitting_. Thought Neville, looking discreetly at the Slytherin boy. He was a few meters away from the Gryffindor group. Nothing was suspicious about him. He was behaving like a prat, as usual. _And as nasty as Malfoy is, I really don't see him hurting a fly._

Bael had said so, too. He was set on believing his cousin was too cowardly to act for himself.

"As I said," began Lockhart, prying Neville to pay attention to him once more, "I will show you how to instigate a duel! My dear colleague, professor Snape, kindly asked me to assist me in my demonstration." Jovially said the wizard.

"Did you count the number of "me" and "my" in that sentence?" muttered off-handedly Hermione, her eyes showing how annoyed the witch was.

From a corner, professor Snape seemed to be seething. No doubt he had been chosen out of lack of other representatives wanting to risk their lives at the end of Lockhart's wand. The buffon was worse than a child wielding his parent's wands.

Amidst the snickers from every student – bets were going all around to know which of Lockhart or Snape would win the duel, and as expected, the odds were largely in favour of Snape – Snape came forward, his wand tightly secured in his right hand.

"He's going to destroy him. Lockhart's a walking disaster with his wand." Whispered Neville in awed.

"If he could banish that looser to the infirmary for the rest of the year, I swear I won't pull pranks on him for that same time …" cursed Ron, before Hermione stepped on Ron's feet. The witch looked at him with thin eyes, motioning her ears.

"Idiot. Lockhart's got many admirers around here. It's not he moment to cause a scene. And Snape could probably hear you."

Before Ron and Hermione could fight over Hermione's slowly fading infatuation with the professor of DADA, Neville went in between his two friends. Now, more than the previous days, Bael's absence was felt. He used to ease tensions very easily. A nice _shut up_ was his trademark punchline before getting to his wand.

"First, both adversaries bow to each other for respect." Was explaining Lockhart to a crowd of students, Snape imitating him. Although his bow was significantly less than Lockhart's. Both men were on the long platform. "Then, both people turn their back to each other. A count to three marks the beginning of the duel. Look closely. One."

"Two." Muttered Snape, taking a step further down the platform.

"And three!"

Lockart turned back to Snape, wand drawn. Unfortunately, the teacher was too late. Snape had been far quicker and efficient. A swift red expelliarmus spell had sent not only the wand to leave its owner's hand, but also sent his adversary flying into the wall. With a _thud_ , Lockhart fell to the ground.

Echoes of staggered students were heard but the never fading smile of Lockhart eased the tension once again. Neville noticed the smile looked faker than ever.

"Ah, of course. The Disarmment spell. A very good one. Since I was not planning to teach it to you so soon, I had been planning another spell. But I could not go all out on you, dear Severus, I would not want your students to think any less of you."

 _As if that was possible_ ticked Neville, registering the same scrunched faces of his friends, no doubt thinking along the same lines as him.

"Of course." Mellowed Snape, his voice oddly tight.

Lockhart did not bother with Snape's sour mood.

"Let's get into real practice! Everyone in a pair! You, Malfoy" pointed with his wand Lockhart under Malfoy's widening eyes, "get with Mr Weasley over there!"

Ron almost cursed aloud at this sorting and, as he put it, unfair world. His luck seemed to have struck this time around, because fate changed his adversary. He ended up with another Slytherin, only due to Snape's arguing.

"Mr Weasley is as untrustworthy with his wand as a niffler with jewels. Longbottom! Do take on Mr Malfoy instead." He said with a mean glare.

Neville gulped. Out of sheer habit, he gritted his teeth together and took a few steps forward to meet Draco. From his peripherical vision, he saw Hermione being paired up against Millicent Bulstrode – the resident Troll of the Castle – and Ron against Pansy Parkinson. And going from his reddening ears, Neville could bet his very own wand the Slytherin girl was sprouting insults about Ron's family and friends. A very poor choice. Ron could be wicked with his wand. When said wand listened to him. _That_ was another battle.

"Longbottom. I'm going to crush you and humiliate you." Whispered Malfoy in his ears.

The two students were mounting the platform too, ready to duel. Lockhart was right behind Neville trying to soothe him – and failing badly at this job – while Malfoy was being supported by Snape. The two Slytherin exchanged a few words and Malfoy's smile did not appease Neville's sinking feeling everything was going to end badly.

"On three." Exclaimed Lockhart. "Let's bow first!"

The boys complied, all the while trading nasty glares and mouthed insults about inbred families, and drew their wands. They turned their back to each other and waited for the count to take a few steps further away from the other.

 _I swear Malfoy's not going to wait for three. I'd better be prepared._

Neville was right. Just as Lockhart was saying "two", Neville jerked to the right, missing the same blue spell Bael would throw to blast people far from him. Malfoy had indeed cheated. But not one to whine about the unfairness of it all, Neville riposted without listening to Lockhart's protests. The duel had begun and there was no stopping it.

" _Flippendo!_ " shouted Neville, charging his spell before sending it right to Malfoy's face. He dodged the orange light very easily and sent another blue spell.

" _Deleor!"_ the blue spell stroke again and Neville took great care in never being touched by that nasty spell. He had no particular envy to stay embed into a wall.

" _Cassium"_ he replied, a weak yellow line was thrown. It was supposed to alter your opponent's movement but Neville was sure it had been an utter failure.

" _Petrificus Totalus!"_

" _Battum nosus"_

" _Ridkulum"_

" _Fors Tapis"_

Spells were flying all around the two boys, never hitting the intended target. And seeing as their spell list was rather short (Neville was forever thankful Bael and Hermione had taken time to teach him a full array of spells to ripost against Malfoy and his cronies if he ever was alone against them), both students spells were dwindling fast.

Breathing heavily, Malfoy threw another spell.

" _Serpensortia_ "

Neville gulped. A snake had been conjured by Malfoy out of the end of the dragon core wand. And Neville had no idea how to get rid of the creature before it could bite his head off. Or one of the other students next to it. Some Hufflepuff from his year, realized Neville.

"Don't move." Whispered the boy, approaching slowly the snake, "Do not attack."

The snake swished his head toward Neville, strangely listening to him.

"We won't hurt you." He continued, a bead of sweat strolling past his eyes.

It was at that moment that Neville became aware of the silence in the room. And the very moment he stopped looking into the serpent's eyes, Lockhart's spell blasted the snake and unnerved it even more. The poor snake only attacked out of defense. Under Neville eyes, the scene unfolded like a muggle movie scene. People were screaming for no reason, Lockhart was trying to apprehend the snake and was failing miserably and Snape was advancing, a calculating look in his eyes.

With a quick swish of his wand, the potion master disapparated the snake and brought Malfoy down the platform with clear distaste in his eyes. Malfoy was going to spend a nasty time with his head of house.

Neville left the platform quickly too. On his way to his friend, people were hastily moving out of his path.

"What's happening?" croaked Neville, "Why are people reacting like that to a duel?"

Both his friends hurried him out of the room with no explanation. Worry etched on their faces, hair disheveled (that might have been because of their own duel though), they stopped at an empty corridor.

"Neville." Began Hermione, out of breath, "you …"

"Why didn't you tell us you were a parselmouth?" groaned Ron, cutting Hermione. He was looking at Neville, not understanding his friend for the first time.

Neville was watching his friend aghast.

"I … what? I'm no parselmouth, Ron."

Both of his friends did not believe him.

"The snake listened to you. You spoke to a snake." Began Hermione.

"Yeah, because I was just telling him not to attack!"

"Calm down! I'm just saying, you were the only one able to communicate with that snake. From our point of view, it seemed like you were commanding the snake to attack."

"What?! You know I can't do that!"

"We know, mate." Whispered Ron, "The thing is, people are going to think you are the Heir … parselmouth are descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself. And only him."

"But I'm … not related to him in any way."

Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"We'd have to ask Bael about that …" finished Hermione.

Neville's throat clamped.

"Dear Merlin … people will think _I_ am a murderer …"

Hermione patted his back.

"I'm sure, people will be more realist. It makes no sense that you would ever want to attack … say Bael for example. Why would you ever want to do it?"

Hermione's words were proven wrong the very next day.

* * *

 **So, there was a lot of skipping lines, but I couldn't find a way to connect everything without adding another u** **seless 4 or 5 thousand wors. As I said, useless.**

 **Anyway, I'll see you guys tomorrow for the next chapter ;)**

 **Don't forget to review and ask your questions, or just say whatever you've thought of the chapter ^^**


	24. New addition

**Hello there ^^**

 **Here we go for another chapter. Just to give some pointers, we're three chapters away from the end of the year!**

 **anyway, you know the drill, read, review, follow/fav if you haven't yet :D**

 **Also, Bael's not with mommy dearest ;)**

* * *

 _Chapter 24: New addition_

The days following the incident were far from relaxing for Neville. Each time he would take one step forward, people would start to part ways and avoid him as if he were the pest. The contrast was quite strong in comparison to a few days ago, when people tried to clobber him because he was the survivor. Right now, they were all thinking he was the next dark lord in the making. All those who had disappeared? Neville killed them and disposed of the annoying ones because he wanted to. Bael was gone because he was more apt at magic than he was. And he had made Tonks disappear too trying to ploy Draco Malfoy. All that plan was rather well thought out, but such whispers behind his back were really getting on his nerves. Ron and Hermione kept on directing him far from the prying eyes and nasty rumors, but Neville heard them nonetheless.

"Don't listen to them Nev'" muttered Neville as the two friends were going to herbology class.

Some students were jeering at Neville, trying and failing to be discreet too. Neville greeted his teeth and walked faster to the green house. He was not waiting for people to look at all this scene. He just wanted to be left alone for some time. Fortunately for him, Herbology was just there for him. At least, teachers weren't suspicious of him or anything. And since herbology was his best class, he was looking forward to a bit of peace. The boy was sorely disappointed when he realized he shared the class with Hufflepuffs and they still held some resentment. Justin Flinch-Fletchey was downright cowering behind his desk. To be truthful, Neville thought it to be pathetic.

"What's wrong with him?" asked darkly Neville to Ron and Hermione.

Both his friends glanced once at Justin and told him simply.

"He was in front of the snake when you spoke to it. Must have thought you commanded it to attack him. And since he's a muggleborn, he must think he's the next target or something."

Neville huffed. He decided to act then. The wizard approached Justin just before the lesson could begin.

"hey, listen." Began the boy gently.

He was shoved by three others Hufflepuffs, all friends of Justin.

"Back off!" began one.

"Uh … who are you?" wondered Neville.

The boy breathed in and answered him proudly

"A pureblood."

"I don't care." Muttered Neville, "I wanted a name, not your blood type.", he frowned when the boy in front of him puffed his chest, "I was just here to talk to Justin."

"Right." Snorted the boy – Neville heard Hermione tell him it was Zacharia Smith, "Like we'll believe that. We won't let you threaten our own!"

Neville looked at Zacharia with wide eyes, not believing his own ears.

Colorful words were on the edge of his tongue and a fight was probably going to ensue had professor Sprout not intervened and put a halt to all discussions.

Neville still left the greenhouse in an even worse mood than when he had come in, merely glancing once at Justin who cowered once more behind his friends.

"What a pansy." Murmured Ron next to Neville to the boy's appreciation. At least Ron and Hermione supported him full time. He would have wanted other people from his very own house to do the same but from the suspicious glances he had seen coming from Dean and Seamus, Neville realized it was a lost cause.

"Just, let's leave." Pried Neville, unshed tears on his face.

"Ye-"

Ron was cut off when he collided with his sister.

"Ginny!" shouted Ron surprised, "Mind where you walk!" he grumbled, helping his sister on her feet and taking her fallen books in his arms.

Ginny seemed in a hurry and left quickly with a glance to Neville. The boy stared at her gently and saw the young witch blush before leaving.

"Don't mind her, Nev'. I told you she has had the worst crush on you since she heard your stories." Muttered Ron, a crease in his eyebrows.

Neville nodded.

"Something's wrong?" asked Hermione, right behind the two boys.

Neville started as he had not heard the girl approach but he negated. Ron humed.

"I'm not sure." He said uneasily. "Just a book of hers signed Tom Riddle.", Ron frowned, 'She'd better have no admirers or I'm telling Fred and George to bug him off."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Leave her alone. Ginny can fend for herself, and you know that."

The days passed by in a breeze. February had come and gone very fast, leaving only Lockhart's version of Saint-Valentine (Neville had been mortified to received a poem by a dwarf on that day in the middle of a corridor) for memory. March was already in full season, and Neville's ostracisation was slowly receding. Although, a notable altercation had been against Malfoy on Sunday.

As he had been strolling far from students, Ron and Neville had stumbled on Malfoy. And he had been alone. That had been curious but it could have just been a coincidence and all three boys could have just ignored each other. But Malfoy had stopped right on their path, wand drawn.

"Let him go!" had shouted the blond, voice tight.

Ron and Neville had immediately drawn their own wands, not impressed at all.

"What are you talking about?" tried Neville before a duel could unfold.

"I said let Xerxès go!" he repeated.

"We don't have Bael." Said Ron, putting his wand back in place, leaving Neville alone against Malfoy.

"Liars!" said Malfoy, cheeks reddening, "I don't care what happened but he needs to be there soon!"

"Back off!" cried Neville, "I don't know where he is."

Malfoy had left with fury on his face.

"What was that about?" wondered Neville, "I did not think he cared that much about his cousin."

Ron shrugged.

"It's complicated. You know how traditional pureblood are about birth and all of that. Bael's mother is supposed to give birth soon, isn't she? So my best guess is that she asked Malfoy to fetch Bael since they don't talk at all."

Neville had shuddered at the thought. He did not need to know about that particular event.

"yeah, I forgot about his sibling. He rarely talks about it."

Ron shrugged once more, not knowing what to say.

"At least, we know Malfoy's not the culprit in all that story …" tried to say Neville.

"Whatever." Groaned Ron, still unconvinced. His theory about the inheritance had been one Ron was particularly proud of.

* * *

The two boys joined Hermione sometime later and told her the small meeting with Malfoy. From the goings, she was more inclined to believe Neville than Ron and she too, agreed with Neville on thinking Malfoy did not know anything more than any student in the Castle.

"Alright. Guys, we need to focus here." Said Hermione. "We all want to know what happened."

The two boys merely nodded. The small group was in the park, far from any prying eyes.

"First of all, don't you find it suspicious that in four month, there was only one attack – if you don't count Filch's cat – and then suddenly, in one day, three people are found petrified and two have disappeared?"

"What about it? The Heir could have simply let loose his powers."

Hermione breathed in and took a book in her bag. Ron recognized it immediately.

"That's Bael's book."

"Yes. I thought he had been acting weird … well weirder than before. Remember last year? There was hardly anything that fazed him and made him change his hair color."

"Yeah, Dumbledore once said Bael had a draconian hold over his magic. Something to do with occlumency." Completed Neville, not getting where Hermione was getting.

"Exactly. Bael almost never changes his hair color."

"But …" began Ron, looking far away deep in his thoughts, "He was changing a lot these last few months."

"Spot on. He knew something. Something that was threatening him if he could not tell us. Something was watching him and forcing him not to act."

"The Heir?" wondered Ron, "It could be him?"

Hermione pursed her lips.

"I don't know. Maybe. Obviously, the Heir did not know Bael enough to know him acting on his metamorphmagus powers was a sign of unhealthiness. Which leads me to believe Tonks realized it too and that's why she's gone too."

Both friends looked at Hermione with open mouth.

"You … think the Heir gave chase to both Bael and Tonks. In broad daylight."

"Yes, I think it went that way. Think again. These attacks were during the day."

"But Bael was already gone." Butted in Ron

"I know! But he was close to Tonks! I know they usually saw each other twice a week at Hogsmeade. They took the secret passageway out of the Castle … anyway, I think Tonks suspected something and tried to help Bael. But whoever put Bael like that, saw that Tonks was beginning to realize what was happening. And thus tracked them. The three other petrified students are what you can literally call collateral damage. Look, they were found respectively not far from each other. You can guess the route Bael and Tonks used to leave."

"We're still not sure about that …"

"We could ask the portraits." Replied Hermione. "They must have heard something."

Ron frowned and stood up.

"Alright. So perhaps that happened. We still don't know what happened to them. And it still does not tell us why you took Bael's book. There's nothing in it but some ideas, any ideas really that goes through his head. He writes in it in the history of magic lesson."

Hermione smiled.

"Precisely, Ron. Precisely.", the witch opened the book, "See the pages? Almost all of them are blank, save for the first few. And there," Hermione pointed to the scribbled pages, "you can find his stupid pranks. What's surprising is the history lessons notes. The full notes of history lessons from Halloween to Christmas. As in ... Bael was following the lessons." Hermione spoke up once more when her friends didn't seem to understand the implications, "Bael was writing word for word what binn's said for two months. hello! Boys! how's that normal?! You've said it yourself Ron, he only writes pranks in that thing."

Ron took the book from Hermione lap and read through the indicated pages.

"That … that's his handwriting though …"

Neville piped up.

"Did you try any revealing charms?"

Hermione nodded.

"Somebody must have changes it, then." murmured Ron, "Charms didn't do anything?"

"No. It did not show anything. Whoever changed Bael's book warded his spells very well." answered the witch.

"That's impossible." Cut off Ron, "Only Bael has access to that. It means he altered it himself. It's like he wanted us to be suspicious of him …"

"What happened back at Halloween that made Bael write whole lessons?" asked Neville before answering for himself, "The Chamber was opened!"

A silence fell over the three friends.

"Alright. So we do believe you, Hermione." Said Neville, "The Heir chased him down. But why go to this length?"

Hermione had nothing to say.

"Something else is bugging me." She said, "Adults say the Chamber was reopened." The witch stood up, following Ron. She gestured to the two boys to follow her. "But the culprit was arrested. The archives said Hagrid and a magical creature of his were the one at fault. An acromentula, sizing 36 pounds at the time."

Neville and Ron followed her, shocked to hear this for the first time. Ron was clearly whimpering.

"How do you know about that?" demanded Neville.

Hermione blushed.

"Well, hagrid did mention it earlier this year and I might have copied Bael's handwriting and sent a letter to his father to swindle more informations."

"You're crazy." whispered Neville, "And his father didn't notice the difference?"

Hermione beamed.

"Yep, I'm sure of it. Which reminds me I'll have to tell Bael, he's not as estranged from his father as he thinks he is. Rodolphus Lestrange was very eager to send the information about Hagrid …"

Neville sweat-dropped. He was sure it was just because it was all about Hagrid being inculped. Nonetheless, he followed Hermione to wherever she was leading them to.

"Where are we going?" finally asked Ron.

The witch pointed to a hut in the distance.

"Hagrid's."

"He talked about spiders, the last time." Mumbled Neville, "About them fleeing the Castle. That's not great news. And what news would he tell us?"

Hermione glared at him.

"Riddle. he would tell us about that Riddle person. Riddle being the prefect that arrested him."

Ron stopped in front of the hut, next to Neville and Hermione. They all called for the half giant to open. Fortunately, he was there. But from his face, he was not the happiest man around.

"You should not be here." he grunted.

Neville gulped.

"Is something the matter? We could come back later if you want."

Hagrid waved him and ignored his remark.

"Aragog's being restless." He simply said.

Neville clearly saw Hermione explaining to Ron what Aragog was. The poor ginger head almost bolted out of the hut.

"Just come back to the Castle before the Ministry officials come."

"What?!" exclaimed the three Gryfindors, "But what do they want?"

Hermione continued.

"They can't arrest you. By order of the law, no one can. And considering your past, they can't lift a finger because you weren't given a true trial."

Hagrid sniffed.

"Thank you, Hermione. Professor Dumbledore said so too … but still, I'd rather you not be there. I heard Lucius Malfoy would be there too, as a representant of the Board of Governors."

"Good luck Hagrid." Whispered the girl, before parting ways with Hagrid and coming back to the Castle, deep in thought, with Ron and Neville.

"So what, now?" asked Neville as they came into the Great Hall, people still dodging him.

"We look for more info." Said both Ron and Hermione. The witch continued, "Nev', that voice you heard? I bet you it was the monster guarding the Chamber. And I want to know more about it."

"We only know that spiders fear it, right?" said Neville

"No. well, I mean, Bael did not think a lot of it so …" said Hemione.

"But Bael was weird since Halloween. So it could perfectly be." Replied Ron, "Spiders have many predators though. Basically, anything bigger than it can be a predator."

"Have you ever seen a magical creature bigger than an acromentula?" sarcastically said Neville, mounting the stairs. Ron and Hermione followed after him, all in their own thoughts.

"I'll look into it tomorrow." Ended Hermione, "You'll be at the Quidditch match, won't you?"

Both boy affirmed it with their heads.

"It feels like we're so close, and yet so far." Murmured Neville.

The three Gryffindors went to bed very quickly, many thoughts in their heads. Even Neville did not care about all the stares he kept on receiving that evening.

* * *

The next day, it was Quidditch match time. Gryffindors against Hufflepuff. As any sane Quidditch match was supposed to begin, tension between the two playing houses was high – especially so with the Heir attacks – but Neville found the tension to be pleasing. He could not say he had not laugh at the new colored faces the Hufflepuffs were sporting the Saturday morning. His spirits were seriously lifted.

As according to her plan, Hermione had quickly left for the library in a rush and had left Ron and Neville to survey the match. The two boys were feeling all the cheers get to their head and plunged into the frenzy in a heartbeat.

From the stairs leading to the spectator area of the Quidditch pitch, the teams were already warming up. Bets were also being taken, and favour was, by a small margin for Gryffindor.

"We'd better win." Shouted Ron, "Just to shut that Smith up."

Neville grinned. He had been thinking exactly the same.

"WELCOME LADIES AND GENTLEMEN TO THE FIFTH OUT OF THE SIX QUIDDITCH MATCH! THE SEASON IS ALMOST OVER! ANYWAY, TODAY'S MATCH IS GRYFFINDOR AGAINST HUFFLEPUFF!"

A huge cheer accompanied Lee Jordan's voice.

"FOR THE LAST HUFFLEPUFF MATCH, THE TEAM CAPTAIN CEDRIC DIGGORY CHOSE TO ALIGN HIS BEST COMBINAISON EVER! I NAME MOORE, CAROC AND JALEY TO THE CHASER POST!"

Lee introduced the whole Hufflepuff team under the many cheers and jeers of the students watching the Quidditch match with rapt attention. Neville was pretty sure Ron was not watching the players on the pitch, as he kept shouting in his ear he had seen Quidditch representants to look for new talents.

"AND NOW, THE GRYFFINDOR TEAM! THE ONLY CHANGE FROM THE LAST MATCH IS BLACKY BEING REPLACED BY BELL"

The crowd reaction was wild for the Gryffindor players. As soon as they came out of the locker room, all of them were embraced by a huge wave of cheers, Neville included.

"ALRIGHT! HERE GOES MADAM HOOCH FOR THE QUAFFLE!"

"Isn't his sonorous or megaphone too loud?" muttered Neville.

Ron shrugged.

"Nah, we're just close to Lee's place."

"JOHNSON'S GOT THE QUAFFLE FOR THE FIRST ACTION!"

The match had begun and the Gryffindor chasers were soundly beating the Hufflepuff ones in the first minutes of the match. The score was already at 70 to 10 for Gryffindor after 15 minutes of hard play.

"I don't think the girls took it kindly when the Hufflepuff tried to put them down the other day." Observed Ron, recalling the quidditch team's altercation a few days prior.

Neville sweat-dropped. That much was obvious.

"AND ANOTHER GOAL FOR BELL THIS TIME! 90 TO 20 FOR GRYFFINDOR!"

The match was far from over. As the snitch was the only ball capable of reversing the tides of the whole match, each supporter was suspended to every action of the players. If the chasers could make so the point difference did not matter anymore, Hufflepuff would be forfeit.

As Neville and Ron were cheering for the chasers, Lee cried out

"WAIT FOR IT! THE SEEKERS HAVE SEEN THE SNITCH! HERE COMES THE MAS DASH TO VICTORY! SCORE'S 170 TO 40 BY THE WAY! DIGGORY PLUNGES BUT POTTER CUTS HIM TO TH RIGHT! SHE VEERS … AAAANNND WILL SHE CATCH IT? NO! A BLUDGER FROM MARLOW STOPS HER! AND DIGGORY IS IN THE RIGHT POSITION TO CATCH THE SNITCH! EEENNNND OF THE GAME! HUFFLEPUFF TAKES THE MATCH BY TWENTY POINTS: 190 TO 180"

Ron's flabbergasted face was funny to watch. As probably was the whole Gryffindor student body.

"Faaaauuuuult!" was shouting Dean somewhere. "It … can't be!"

"We lost." Simply repeated Ron, "With … 140 in advance."

Neville patted Ron's back.

"Mate, it happens sometimes. Maureen's must be feeling down. Let's come and get her."

Ron nodded still shocked to have lost. And the Hufflepuff's happy faces was not helping to cheer Ron up.

"The whole team is probably drowning in the locker room if you want a piece of my mind." Muttered the ginger head with a gulp. Sour faces were met pretty frequently, and as Ron was a very sore looser, Neville specifically led Ron far from any Quidditch related Hufflepuff.

"Mrs Weasley and Longbottom."

McGonagall's voice called the two boys over. Her eyes were a bit glassy.

"We lost, professor." Repeated again Ron, not looking the teacher in the eyes.

McGonagall's lips pinched.

"Did we? A shame."

"Professor?" asked Neville, "What's wrong."

The old witch looked at Neville with sad eyes.

"I'm afraid there was another attack during the Quidditch match."

The mood was almost sour, it dampened even more.

"Who?" demanded both boys at the same time.

The transfiguration teacher led the two boys to the infirmary.

"She was found near the second's floor bathroom earlier." She said, opening the door to let the two boys in. The rushed to the only bed used by the familiar form of their friend.

"Hermione …" whispered Neville, looking at his friend's face.

She was petrified, her eyes wide with horror. In her left hand, a mirror was held, on the other one, a piece of paper was tightly held. With some difficulty, Neville managed to take it without being seen (Ron had hidden him, he had realized later).

"will she wake up?" asked Ron, his voice tight with emotion.

"Yes, she will." Briskly said McGonagall with a sad gaze, "The mandragors have almost reached their maturity. Professor sprout should soon brew a potion to wake up the students."

Neville nodded.

In a dream-like stupor, Neville led Ron to an isolated corridor before taking out the small paper Hermione had held in her hand.

"What's that?" whispered Ron, still upset about his friend.

"Hermione was holding that thing."

Neville showed it to Ron.

"There's something written on there." Said Neville, "Look."

And as Neville had said, a few words were scribbled. Going from the rush in the handwriting, Hermione must have been rushed by time. On the paper, the words, _basilisk,_ and _pipes_ were jotted down.

Realization dawned on the two boys.

"The monster of the Chamber of Secrets is a basilisk!" they cried out in sheer fear.

Ron rumbled,

"Of course, it's so obvious now. A basilisk … the king of the serpents, makes any magical creature flee, travels through the pipes."

"And that thing is a snake … that's why I could hear a voice in the corridors!" exclaimed Neville, "Hurry, we must tell somebody!"

Ron nodded too, but just as they went to go look for a teacher, an alarm sounded.

" _All students are asked to get back to their common room immediately."_

Both Ron and Neville looked at each other, knowing full well they would not. Luckily or not, the stumbled on the professors. McGonagall was there with Flitwick and Dumbledore. All the three adults were looking at a wall, where fresh red paint was clearly reading _Their skeletons will rest for eternity in the Chamber of Secrets._

And from the few words both boys could make out, they heard some freezing story.

"Albus, we can't continue like this. The school will have to close." Was saying McGongall.

"First the petrification, then the disappearances and now … threats!" squicked Flitwick.

"Do we have the full account of the portraits?" asked once again McGonagall.

Dumbledore waved his wand over one portrait.

"The knight said he did not see anyone. But the Castle has been tampering with the portraits memories. We can't know."

"And what about the … _skeletons_." Asked Flitwick.

A silence went amongst the teachers.

"From the latest reports, I would say Mr Black, Miss Tonks and Miss Weasley are these unnamed skeletons." Whispered the Headmaster.

Neville just had enough time to stop Ron from rushing head-in in the professor's gathering.

"That's impossible … who would want to hurt Ginny?" whispered Ron after some time, "Nev'!"

Neville was shaking in his boots.

"I know. Come, we must hurry to save them!"

* * *

Draco Malfoy was sweating bullets. And he was not the only one. Going from the letter in his hands, his father was far from peaceful.

In a few, short sentences, Draco had been ordered to find his cousin before the rest of the family could realize he was gone to who knows where with the _other sister's kid_. Draco was _so_ sweating bullets. Because that particular letter had been sent almost a month ago, and if only him and his father knew Xerxès was gone, the truth would very soon spill out when his aunt would give birth. And she was due very soon. As in, in a few days now.

Draco took the nap on his table to wash the perspiration away. He was sure his mother had caught on his little game too. She had been nagging him to hear about Xerxès stories. And since Draco usually blabbered all he could about his cousin to his mother, now that he had stopped, he was forced to invent gruesome stories. And that, she had cought on.

"What took me to say he had been in detention with the Astronomy teacher? He almost worships the stars. Of course he would not do anything to upset her."

Sighing, Draco took another letter, this time from his mother. She had been quite clear about her stance on this whole story.

 _You'd better tell the truth, son, or you and your father are going to spent the worst summer._

Hence Draco's real reason for the profuse sweating. His mother was downright scary when she wanted to be. He had learnt that at a particular duel between his parents. And he was in no hurry to be the next victim of her wand.

"You coming?" wondered Draco' best friend, Theodore Nott.

Draco swished his head towards him, still feeling uneasy.

"Uh … just go ahead." He said, "I have some stuff to pick up in the common room."

His friend stared at him a few seconds before shrugging and leaving with his other year-mate for the Quidditch match. Draco waited up until everybody he knew was far from him to leave the Great Hall. Now that the whole Castle was at the Quidditch match, the Castle was almost completely empty.

"What I'm going to do?" whispered Draco, taking a long stroll in the fifth corridor. "Let's be realist. What happens if he's not there to name his sibling?"

Draco pictured vividly the shouting.

Yeah, so much about going against traditions. It was not advised. But then, it was him or Xerxès, and he was not going to leave unscathed from this story.

"I could tell the truth … Ah, who am I kidding? There will be bloodshed if I ever do."

Draco heaved a sigh.

He always had been lucky. From his childhood to now, fate had favored him. Or at least, that was what his grandmother kept on telling him. The young boy was still walking in the Castle without really looking around him. He only noticed a particular nasty smell.

"Oh, come on! I have done nothing this time! Hear me, Castle!" shouted Draco half-heartedly.

He knew some dungbombs would fall over his head in no time.

As it turned out, it was not the case. Draco stumbled directly upon another student, who, apparently had taken no shower in a few months or the student had fallen prey to the Castle's whims.

And then, Draco registered the student.

"… Xerxès." He simply said.

His cousin watched him dumbly, no smile on his face. Some red paint was on both of his hands. His Gryffindor robes looked like they had seen better days, and his hair was the long dark curls heaved in a bun that he was used to see back in the old days. Only now, his cousin smelt like he had been taking a bath with dead fish. Draco almost threw up on the spot.

"Can't you at least take a shower once a day?!" hollered the blonde, tears showing in his eyes, "Oh and whatever, I'll have you known you have to be there for Aunty's"

Draco never got to finish his sentence. The blue _deleor_ spell had left his cousin's wand like a bullet and the young blonde boy barely avoided the spell. An angry red line still marred his left cheek.

" _Bombarda max-"_

Draco did not stay to see what would happen. He knew full well that spell. And right now, his guts were also screaming at him to leave. As he scampered out of the corridor like a racing broom, Draco saw that his cousin was not following him at all. Well, he was not coming back to ask for a beating. Right now, his heart was beating way too fast for his liking.

Once the young blonde Slytherin had ran and put half the Castle between him and his cousin's old location – and there Draco was dearly hoping Xerxès would not appear out of the wall, because he wasn't sure his heart could take it.

"Draco, what are you doing here?" a voice echoed on the walls.

"Professor Snape!" shouted Draco, delighted to be saved.

The potion master frowned and looked at his godson in the yes. The mere contact was enough to pry the information from the young boy. Draco knew that, but he still tried to explain what had happened.

"I … Xer.. he… and I …"

Snape waved his wand around him and suggested to Draco to follow him.

"We don't have time. Draco, I believe your family's called for you."

If Draco could whiten even more than now, he would have reached the translucid state of a ghost.

"Now?" he whispered out of breath.

Snape glanced at his downed student a small second. He did no say a thing. Instead, he led Draco to his study and gave him the pot to take some powder.

"Take the floo and say Saint Mangoose, third story, fourth row."

Draco nodded dumbly. He did exactly as he was told, not missing the worry etched on his godfather's face. He had clearly noted he had been left alone to announce Xerxès's absence.

 _Perhaps I'm already done for._ Thought Draco, noting the irony. It was only a few months ago his cousin had said the same.

* * *

Saint Mangoose hospital was the only magical hospital of Great Britain. As such, it was huge. It could literally contain small battalions of armed wizard and still there would be enough place to take care of the wizarding population.

"Son." Greeted the familiar voice of his father.

Draco did not hide his relief. He rushed to his father and they briefly embraced each other. Unfortunately, the question was on his lips.

"What about your cousin?"

Not one to back down, Draco answered very fast.

"He attacked me."

His father froze.

"He what? Wait, so you found him. Did the two of you went into a fight again?"

"What?! No! I told you I haven't seen him in months! Since January! And I just stumbled upon him per chance!"

"Say what."

The frosty voice of his mother was way too close for comfort.

"Mom." Whimpered Draco, his grip on his father's arm tightening.

But his mother seemed past the fury. She breathed in and merely stared the two males down.

"Bella seemed convinced that whatever's happening at Hogwarts right now is your doing. So, Lucius, I don't care what part you currently have in all that, but I suggest you right your wrongs. Now let's come in. xerxès will follow soon."

Draco followed his mother without any other words. They weaved in and out of the crowd and arrived in front of the door. There, Rabastan and Rodolphus were already waiting in front of the door. Very swiftly, Narcissa entered the room and left behind her all the males.

With a very excited grin, Rodolphus apostrophed Draco.

"So, I haven't heard from you in a while. Tell me what's going on in Hogwarts! I heard from Xerxès some things about the Chamber of Secrets."

Draco paled. Fortunately, his father was there to help him.

"Your son's been writing to you recently?"

Rodolphus grinned.

"Yeah. I think he's ready to bury the hatchet, as the muggle say."

Draco hadn't the heart to tell him the letter was probably fake. From the state he had been in, Draco doubted his cousin had taken the time to send a nice letter to his father. Last time, he had heard a nasty fight had burst.

"We're only waiting for him." Finished Rabastan with a slight smile.

It faded away quickly. The pale faces of both Malfoy probably gave it away.

"What gives?" asked Rabastan, slightly on edge.

"Well," began Draco, not sure how to announce it, "He refused to come."

There was a pause, in which both Lestrange gazed at Draco with dumb eyes. Draco squirmed under the stares and was even less comfortable when Rodolphus repeated the sentence.

"He … refused to come."

The large man paced angrily in front of the door.

"And you did not ask for Severus to at least make him come!" half shouted half whispered the large man.

Draco's father protected his son.

"Rod, it's not my son's fault your son is behaving like a savage."

"Don't you dare begin that." Whispered Rodolphus, seeing red.

Draco wisely chose to take a few steps far from his uncle and father. Unfortunately, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. It was Rabastan.

"Did the two of you fight?" he asked gently. His eyes roamed over Draco's left cheek, "I can see the rest of a _deleor_ spell."

Draco nodded.

"Okay. Just don't tell Bella or your mother that. They don't need more amo to shoot us down. We'll just pretend Xerxès's sick or something. Something to do with his illness. I'm sure that'll be believable."

Draco heaved a sigh. Of course they would. Each time they had to cover up for Xerxès, it came down to the incurable illness.

"Won't they worry and ask about him?"

Rabastan shrugged.

"And that's where we can be thankful Xerxès never liked to broadcast his illness. For once, his stubbornness will serve us."

Draco hardly thought it would fool anybody but his grandmother. That cover-up story had been used time and time again, so much that it had become an inside joke.

"Still, Mom and Bella will know something's up."

Rabastan shrugged once again.

"Better later than now. Your Grandmother's inside. For her sake, let's pretend we all stick to the traditions." Murmured the man, watching as Lucius and Rodolphus were behaving like children down the corridor in poorly covered hush.

"At least _my_ son knows how to ride a broom!" was seething Rodolphus.

"But _mine_ is in the official Quidditch team. What's yours done?!" spat back Lucius with a nasty smile.

Draco sweat-dropped. It always ended like that whenever both his mother and aunt were far from them. He had learnt from a young age a rivalry had developed between the two males a long time ago. Usually, Rabastan was the one to take care of him them when they got too hot-tempered.

"Hum hum."

The Healer's cough attracted all the male's attention.

"Gentlemen." He saluted. He was answered by small nods, "It's a young healthy baby." He joyously said, "And I believe the young Xerxès is asked by the women inside."

The Healer looked nicely at Draco. He blushed slightly.

"I'm not Xerxès." He squawked

The Healer smiled once more.

"Oh, I know. I am the Lestrange family Healer after all. No, but I was thinking … a few feet taller, and dark curls and I'm sure we could make you pass as your cousin. A small transfiguration spell ..."

Draco took a step back under the four pair of eyes eyeing him thoughtfully.

"That's never happening." He whispered, knowing full well any apt witch would see right through the ploy. And he had no idea how to pass off as his cousin.

"Healer Schiller." Gravely said Rodolphus, "I'll go."

The Healer swayed his head.

"Alright. First door on your right."

The head of the Lestrange family went inside. A strange silence fell over the group, all waiting to hear some kind of shout.

"Well," cut the Healer after a few minutes, "I'm off to see the blood results."

Once more, Draco was left alone in a right mess. Soon, it would be his turn to get inside and greet his new cousin in the family, along his father and Rabastan. And none looked too happy about that. It was supposed to be a formality, with some drops of blood and then the whole deed was supposed to be over. The night was going to be very long, going from the long faces.

Some minutes later, Draco remembered to have been called inside with the rest of the family. Behind the door laid another corridor littered with many rooms. Rabastan led the two Malfoy to Bellatrix's room very slowly, probably waiting the longest moment possible before facing his sister in law.

"-told you so, Bella." Came a weak raspy voice also known as Druella's voice. The grandmother.

The three males entered the room, but nobody payed them attention. Druella was in her rant.

"You did not listen to me once again. Even when I told you he was wobbly and paler than usual." Sneered the old witch, "look at where that leaves you."

Bellatrix was not listening to her mother either. She kept on exchanging glances with Rodolphus, and from what Draco could see, he was sure his mother was trying to coax the old witch out of the room with some poor excuses.

"Anyway, Bella. Congratulations on your daughter. Ans since your son is indisposed, we'll have to reconduct the induction. I must go. Good day."

With these crude words, the old witch left with ease.

Apparently, from the general sigh, there was no one missing dear Druella and her cane.

"Now, spill." Snapped Bellatrix

Draco was ushered to the side by Rabastan.

"Don't mind Bella and go take a look at your newest cousin." He mumbled, glancing behind him.

Draco did as he was told but he kept his ears well out to hear all that was said.

"What's he done, now?" she cringed with clear anger in voice and perhaps a slight disappointed tinge.

From the footsteps sounds, Draco heard the adults gathering to Bella's bed.

"Draco said he's been into a fight with him just before coming." Muttered Rodolphus with a small voice, probably cowering from glares.

"A fight. Really? That's all he's found not to come. Pathetic." Answered the woman, "I don't even know why I bother sometimes."

"Bella," soothed Narcissa, "he's just a teenager, he doesn't understand the-"

"Save it, Cissy. Either way, he'll be gone in a few years."

A gasp – from his mother, Draco gathered – and ushed words he could not decipher were mouthed.

"it's true, though." Came Rodolphus' grave voice. "He's blamed us for his sickness, and then came to resent us as _snakes._ Why do you think he was not sorted into Slytherin? He blatantly hated us."

More words were exchanged, probably meant as reassuring before there was a collective stop of conversation. Draco stopped looking at his newborn cousin (was sound asleep, and had a small tuft of black hair) to see the adults. They were all looking or grasping their left arm. It did not take Draco more than a second to process what that was all about. And since all Dark Marks were linked to each other, it meant a Death Eater was in deep troubles. The blank faces of both his mother and Rabastan were enough of a clue to tell him they were using their occlumency powers to track back the faulty Death Eater.

"That .." came Bellatrix's hoarse voice.

Draco frowned. He had not realized his aunt had been using her own Occlumency powers as well. She was very apt with it, her face had not shown any divide in her mind.

"Draco," gently began his mother, "tell us, you only had a fight with Xerxès?"

Draco blinked several times, trying to get why all adults were looking so avidly at him.

"Yes." He whispered, but as he was the only on talking, his voice came out louder than intended.

"Anything particular to add?" she urged.

 _The stench_ betrayed his mind. And from his mother's frown, she had been probing his mind.

"Stench?" said with an edge, "Draco .." she warned once again, "I repeat, was there anything weird these last few days about him?"

Draco scratched his arm, nervous.

"I … well, … Xerxès has not been attending classes for some time now. Slytherin's Heir is thought to be the reason why he's been gone." Spilled Draco, watching the varying reactions, which, in typical pureblood wizard, was none. He still saw the trademark scowl his aunt wore and the scathing glare she sent towards Lucius. He still went on, "Since mid-January. I stumbled upon him by chance."

"Anything to note about his appearance?" asked Rodolphus, eyes alight with passion.

Draco gulp.

"Not really. Just the usual long hair and …"

Draco was cut off by Bellatrix.

"We don't care about that! His eyes! Were they glazed?"

The particular question irked Draco.

"What … yeah … I guess you could say that. But his eyes have been glazed since December." He said shakily, watching as all adults fell into deep contemplation. Finally his uncle Rodolphus was the only one to ask the freezing question:

"Any idea of which unexperimented wizard imperiused my son?" he spat.

Draco gulped.

"No." he meekly said.

"Hum hum." A voice sounded from behind the door. The healer's head poked out of the door, a vey rush look on his face. "My apologies for my interruption. Mr Lestrange, if I could talk to you for a second."

Rodolphus frowned and got over the Healer.

"What is it?" he thundered, clearly bothered by the interruption. The Healer was not impressed.

Draco wanted to eavesdrop, but he was stopped by his mother from advancing anymore. He could only watch as his uncle's brow creased and the two wizards left by Apparition.

* * *

 **Alright guys!**

 **I hope you liked the chapter.**

 **Don't forget to review, fav and follow ^^**

 **See you tomorrow :D**


	25. Fighting the basilisk

**Hello guys! Sorry for the slight delay, I was eating with the family .. ;)**

 **Anyways, I wanted to thanx all of you for the reviews, the fav and follows! You're awesome!**

* * *

 _Chapter 25: Fighting the basilisk_

Gilderoy Lockhart was, to the unseeing eyes, the perfect wizard. At 32, his smile was making witches all swoon and his books were the perfect tool to celebrity.

But as a student, Lockhart had never been recognized for his genius or talent. Back when he was a first year and had been sorted into Slytherin for his ambition, he had seen what popularity was like. Narcissa Black was the epitome of grace, talent and popularity, all at once. She had been a first year then, and Gilderoy Lockhart had been impressed by her aura. He had thus decided to thrive for more power to reach, and surpass, one day her level. She had everything and now it was his turn.

It turned out Gilderoy was not as magical as his others peers though. Very quickly he had been made fun of, his own year-mates had picked on him for being an almost squib and soiling the name of the noble house of Slytherin. Oh, these had been lonely years. But his ambition had not dwindled. Far from it, it had worsened. His thirst for people's attention never ceased to grow, but his good looks could only take him so far.

His writing skills were about the only thing he was being praised for. And that had been because he had put a lot of work into that skill. Since he could not work with his wand very well, he could use his quill just fine. And story subjects never fled his imagination. But his ego was far stronger, and he slowly started to write himself as the unsung heroes of before.

From the very first stories, his books had been best-sellers. People had fought just to read it. And that had spurred Gilderoy to write even more, to the point, his imagination had slowly reached its ultimate capacity. It had not been enough. And then, came his genius idea. Why not stole the story from very capable wizard? He would just had to cast an obliviation spell to make them forget they ever lived the story. Oh, and he was so very good with that spell. It almost felt like he was born to wield the spell, like it had been custom-made for his needs.

But the jeers never really stopped.

On the sides, wizards had been jealous, or they had smelt the dragon's dung, as old Barnaby would say. But Gilderoy had shipped them to the jealous sort. He was having the best days of his life, there was no question about ever going back to his teenage years.

But now, he was sorely being reminded of his ineptitude in using magic.

 _Why did I choose to become the DADA teacher?_

The answer escaped Gilderoy's mind. And here, as he was lounging in the teacher classroom, a notification about another attack shook him to the core. He made up his mind on the spot. He was not staying one more minute in this crazy Castle. He had not signed to risk his life for stupid little children who could not think farther than their noses.

" _I_ know who's responsible of all that trouble!" dramatically shouted the man in the teacher classroom, waiting for adoring wizards and witches to beg him to tell a name. It never came. The teachers were all minding their own business, either talking about the match and switching to the new attack or already leaving to take care of students.

Only Minerva McGonagall stared him down like he was some dirt on her boot. Which he had no doubt the witch thought. Truth to be told, the witch always cowed him, even when he had been a child and she had already been his teacher.

"Why don't you go chase him down and arrest him then?" she snickered.

Gilderoy's never-ending smile waned. He hated these kinds of attitude. But his pride had been touched. He would leave with all his dignity. And never tell anyone he was simply leaving the Castle before people got slaughtered in a good blood bath.

"I am going right now." He stifled

As soon as the door had closed on Gilderoy's back, the wizard hurried along the corridors. There was no telling the real Heir was down here, lurking in a dark alcove and waiting to attack him. And since the corridors were deserted because of the alert, the Castle seemed creepier than ever. And what unnerved the wizard even more was the lack of response from the Castle itself.

The entity and him have always been at odds. Thinking back on it, it had almost been endearing when the pranks had not been a reminder of how useless he was at using magic. But tonight, the Castle was not hampering the DADA teacher from leaving its ground. Which was a first Gilderoy lockhart was not about to leave.

"Are you sure the entrance to the Chamber's there?"

Gilderoy froze.

He recognized these voices. He knew them by heart. This was Ronald Weasley and his side-kick, the not so great Neville Longbottom.

"This is where we've found Filch's cat! I'm telling you the entrance must be around here!"

Oh, yes. Gilderoy was definitely right. And his guts were also telling him there was some very nice story there.

His mind was made up in a quarter of a second. He was tailing the two boys for the grand finale of the famed Chamber of Secrets. Since the Castle was being unresponsive, he would seize this grand opportunity. Nobody would care about two poor children anyway, and he could claim the dizzying thoughts to be the result of an old wayward spell …

Gilderoy stopped right in front of the girl's bathroom where the two boys had come in. He waited, listening closely to the conversation in case the two decided to go back on their steps.

"Try to go look for some symbol that could take us to the Chamber. Anything." Came the high pitched voice of Neville Longbottom.

"Under the sinks!" shouted his friend.

"Is that …"

"Yeah! It's a snake! Come on! Try to speak parseltongue to it!"

"Uh … what do I say?"

"Anything!"

"Open."

Nothing happened.

"That was not parseltongue." Grunted Ron, "Try again. And focus back to when Malfoy conjured the snake."

"Alright. _Open_."

Gilderoy almost danced in joy. The boy had hissed some pretty words in the snake tongue at a sink, and now, the whole bathroom was trembling. Something was happening, and he itched to know what it was. So Gilderoy did not wait. He was a full-grown wizard and could make decisions for himself. Thank you very much.

"NO ONE MOVES!" he shouted, taking the two children by surprise.

The wizard had pointed his wand to Ron, who was shaking in his boots, his own wand laid on the ground. As hostage, Gilderoy took Ron and made a sign with his wand to force Neville to look at the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets.

Still in awe and surprise, the two students had no time to really consider Lockhart's coming, and the teacher rather liked it that way. He was not complaining. As he looked at the once circle of sink that now were a huge hole on the ground, a nasty smell escaped the pipe. The three people exchanged disgusted looks and it would not be the adult's prowess in magic that would help them at all.

"I don't think I'm going to stay like this for long, now." Muttered Neville, "That pipe smells like it has not seen real air in centuries."

"Mind you, that's probably the case." Mumbled Ron, still embed in Lockhart's arms.

Gilderoy did not care for the two ramblings. He pointed his wand to Neville and forced him down the hole. With no other warning than a scathing glare, the boy went down. It was only when he heard the satisfying sound of a body hitting the ground (and he voice of the boy), that Gilderoy was satisfied enough to himself go down. What he had not anticipated was Ron throwing his weight down the hole and drag him in his fall.

"How dare you?!" he grunted between his teeth as the two boys whispered some words he could not make out. His wand was still drawn. "You're not useful to me anymore. _Oblivia-"_

The white spell was burning the tip of his wand, but he was cut off by some weight on his back. The two boys in front of him had not moved yet, so Lockhart was seriously beginning to fear for his life. _What was that thing on his back?!_

"Who are you?" he screamed, his wand tip lighting up this time to allow a better view.

The sight that met him would be seared in his brain for the years to come. It was one of the missing student, more exactly Nymphadora Tonks, in muddy Hufflepuff robes.

" _Petrificus Totalus."_ She simply said, her eyes unfocused.

Lockhart avoided the spell by a small margin. But the time it took hampered him from defending himself. This time both Gryffindor students he had blackmailed into going down were pointing their wands to Lockhart, the red spell of an Expelliarmus and Stupefy threatening to get loose.

"No!"

But it was too late, and Lockhart ended up stupefied and wandless.

"Yes! Nev', we did it! Hey Tonks, you're here too!" exclaimed Ron in an excited whisper.

But both boys realized then Tonks was not behaving normally either. Her wand was still drawn, and this time she was targeting the two boys.

"We don't stand a chance against her, do we?" wondered Neville, remembering she was a fifth year student..

Ron just took his arm and led him into the tunnel without any other explanation than : "Run!"

They did so. Breath-less, it felt like the two boys had been running for hours. The only way to tell Tonks was still following them was the tell-tale signs of thunder-lights, vestiges of the spells the fifth-year was casting.

"Shit! What is that?" cursed Ron as the boys tumbled on a huge pile of something.

Neville took the time to examine it.

"I think … it's a skin's shed."

Ron and him looked at each other clearly mortified.

"It means we're on the good tracks, right?" tried to encourage Ron. "Let's go before Tonks comes back."

"What happened to her?" briefly wondered Neville. Ron shrugged. "Her eyes were all ... hazy."

"I think … my dad told me about that spell. It's the Imperio, an Unforgivable. The caster controls the victim …"

Neville tried to breathe in a long while without puking – the air smelt putrid – and hurried Ron with him behinf the skin's shed.

"We'll try to hinder her. You know, send stupefies at the same time."

Ron agreed.

Prepared as they were, Tonks stood no chance when she came in their part of the tunnel, wearing no shield. She took full on the stupefies and stayed still. Neville and Ron both left their hide and looked sadly at their older friend.

"Let's hurry to save her too." Mumbled Neville. "Whoever spelled her must be the Heir."

Ron just forlornly bobbed his head, following Neville in the deep tunnel. Soon, the two boys ended up on a sealed door with a snake's head on it. It did not take them many minutes to realize Neville needed to speak Parseltongue once more.

" _Open_." Said once more Neville, hissing the word in the snake tongue on the first try.

The door opened by a small snaked weaving some nice runes o the door. But the scene it opened on was a nightmarish sight for Ron.

"Ginny!" he screamed with the mightiest volume he could.

Ron rushed to the fallen girl's side.

Ginny, for it was her, was lying on the floor of a huge chamber. No doubt it was the Chamber of Secrets. The room in itself was dimly lit by torches, the ceiling was unseeable and the only noticeable landmark was the huge statue of what Neville assumed to be Salazar Slytherin. He was carved into the rock from head to toe. The huge wizard was looking down on them – the glare was meant to cower the students coming in, Neville was sure.

The room was flooded too, noticed the boy. He did not tarry any longer in the entrance. Hurrying next to Ron, he tried to shake awake Ginny too.

She was pale. Paler than he had ever seen the girl be.

"She won't wake up." Said a male voice behind the two boys.

As a whole they turned back to the new voice. A man, a Slytherin man was standing a feet away from them. He probably was a sixth or seventh year.

"What have you done to her?!" demanded Ron, wand drawn.

Neville then noticed the wand the Slytherin boy was twirling in his hand was Ginny's. And that the man in question seemed to falter in and out of reality. His gazed stayed solely on Neville, ignoring Ron completely.

"Ha, you noticed."

"What are you?" simply asked Neville, wand drawn too in case of a fight.

"Let's be polite here." Began he boy, taking a few steps in their direction, "My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Impossible." Said Ron, "You're dead. You're supposed to be dead. Or not to be that young. You were a prefect 50 years ago!"

The man looked troubled at these words.

"Really? Oh well. It's your turn now, to introduce yourselves."

"We don't have time!" yelled Ron, "What have you done to my sister?!"

The man looked at Ron with anger behind his eyes.

"Sister? I gather you must be a Weasley too, then. Your dimwit sister poored her heart in my journal." Neville noticed the black journal laying down next to Ginny, "The fool let me control her."

"You!" shouted Ron, but he was cut off by Neville.

"You're a memory sucking on her life to take form." He realized from Ginny's paleness and Tom's flickering form.

"Better yet." Smiled the boy. He took Ginny's wand and formed letters out of it. Each letter for his name was spelled out. With a lazy swish of his hand the letters rearranged themselves. They slowly formed the anagram _I am Lord Voldemort_.

Ron and Neville froze.

"I knew it." Whispered Ron with a quiver in his voice, "Riddle … that was the same name than Quirrel's tag …", the boy was shaking, "All this time and we knew ..."

Neville was beginning to panick. Ron and him were pressed by time and had to fight against a Dark Lord's memory.

"I gather from what that girl wrote in my journal that you are Neville Longbottom. The boy who defeated me!" thundered the boy.

But Ron had another idea than to let the man rant. He let out a red spell Voldemort's memory easily avoided.

"What have you done to our friends? Bael and Tonks?"

It certainly stopped Voldemort. But he was annoyed now.

"Shut up. I needed a more competent wizard than your sister, and it was just fortunate that your dear Bael realized what was happening sooner than any other one. But his other friend got stucked into it too. I used them well. They must be lurking around, now."

Neville and Ron released a breath they did not know they were holding.

"What do you want? Release them and let us go!" demanded Neville, his voice shaking.

The memory snickered.

"Never. You, a boy, defeated me, the greatest wizard to have ever lived. You deserve to die. _Oh Greatest of the four Founders, Salazar Slytherin, open the path."_ Hissed in Parseltongue Voldemort to the founder's statue.

"Hide!" shouted Neville, knowing full well the basilisk that Hermione had deduced the monster to be, was coming. "And don't let it look into your eyes!"

"I know!" shouted back Ron, looking at the floor, his wand tightly pressed into his hand.

"Not so fast!" shouted Voldemort, wand raised somewhere off, "I command thee, kill the Weasley." Whispered the memory.

Neville could not resist. He lifted his eyes to see Bael's form, just as muddy as Tonks – appear. His wand was drawn and ready to fire a green spell towards Ron.

"Don't!" screamed Ron, "Resist!", he ducked under the green spell his once best friend sent his way.

Neville did not see what happened next. From the statue of Salazar Slytherin, the basilisk had finally come out. And Voldemort's orders were pretty clear.

" _Kill the boy over there._ " He hissed.

Neville ran for his life, head down, trying to avoid he huge basilisk. From time to time, he would throw spells, but Neville honestly feared to touch one of his friend by mistake.

People were shouting already. Bael and Ron were engaged in a fierce duel, realized Neville, throwing spells he did not know what the incantation was for. The only tell-tale heat level reaching new heights told him they were throwing around fire spells.

The basilisk was not bothered by it though.

" _he's hiding down there."_ Pointed Voldemort to his creature, unbothered by the duel taking place at all.

Neville felt his heart rush. Voldemort was right on one thing. He was hiding down the aisle. More exactly in an alcove he knew the basilisk could not reach. From the reflection on the floor, he had seen the beast, or its size.

 _How am I going to defeat that thing?_

A blast was heard in the Chamber, diverting the basilisk from its main task, which was to find and kill Neville. The boy in question took the opportunity to leave, trying to lead the basilisk away from his friends.

"You stand no chance against the mightiest beast." Said the memory, "soon, I will take form and Ginny Weasley will be but another corpse."

Neville gritted his teeth. Oh, he knew very well he stood no chance against a basilisk. He could not even look at the creature without being killed!

Out of the blue, a slight cry from a bird was heard. Neville looked up to see Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, holding in his claw an old fabric. The bird dumped it on Neville's head and went head on to attack the basilisk.

"NOOOO!" cried the memory along the cry of the basilisk.

Neville's hope soared high.

He realized Fawkes had just crushed the basilisk's eyes. The basilisk was now mostly useless.

"Your bird might have crushed its eyes but it is still venomous enough to kill you with a scratch!" screamed Riddle.

But Neville did not care. He was sensing his life-span to be considerably longer than a few minutes ago.

"Put me on your head, boy."

Neville started. The old fabric was actually the Sorting hat. Not asking how a magic hat would help him fight a basilisk, Neville did as he was told and hurried to a safe place. The basilisk was still rummaging the chamber, sniffing and trying to track him down.

 _Snakes have incredible sensory smell._ Noticed Neville as he saw the huge green snake stop a few feet away from where he was hiding. He held his breath in in order not to let any noise and was pleased to see the basilisk go away.

A heavy weight fell on his head.

"Ouch." Whispered Neville.

The hat fell down, letting loose a beautiful sword. Carved on it's side, the name Godric Gryffindor could be read.

 _Only for the valorous, uh?_

With renewed vigor, Neville ran to the highest point of the chamber. The statue of Salazar Slytherin was just waiting to be mounted. It was the ideal point to throw in the basilisk mouth the sword.

"You won't win this!" screamed once again Riddle, throwing a spell. It faded halfway to Neville.

"You don't have enough strength!" screamed back Neville, his attention down on the basilisk.

With a mighty throw and a huge cry, Neville buried the sword to the hilt in the basilisk head. The huge snake fell to the ground just as fast.

"NOOO!" cried Riddle, anguish marring his handsome face.

But Neville wasn't finished. He could feel his strength leaving, but he was considerably closer to Ginny and the journal than anyone. Pushing in his last reserves, he kneeled down next to Ginny, took the journal and stabbed it with the basilisk fang that had been embed in his arm.

"You're dead anyway! Basilisk poison can't be cured!" shouted the memory, anger in his voice.

It was with great satisfaction that Neville watched the journal bleed ink and Tom Riddle disappear. With each passing second, Riddle was leaving a little bit more, and Ginny was getting better. In under a minute, the journal smoked and finally stopped bleeding. Smiling, Neville saw Riddle's last glare. He had won and he could finally rest. His head was getting dizzier and …

A shrill reached Neville's head. Even with blurred eyesight, Neville made out the phoenix's contour.

"Fawkes, what is it?" he simply murmured.

Neville felt more than saw the phoenix hover his wounded arm. A fresh liquid seeped on the wound. Neville's dwindling strength came back so fast, he could not fully process what was happening.

"Phoenix's tears … they can heal anything." Whispered in awe Neville.

In a flurry rush, Fawkes had left his side to go to Ron and Bael's sides. Only now, did he register Ron was crying. With great effort, Neville pushed on his feet and went to see his two friends.

Ron looked like he had seen better days. A good half of his face was burnt, one of his arm was bent in a weird angle and his nose was heavily bleeding. Bael wasn't faring much better. Crushed under the basilisk tail, the spikes spearing into his left arm and cutting his body in two, he was having trouble breathing. Fawkes was by his side, letting his tears fall freely over Bael's mouth and keeping alive.

"Nev', we need to lift the basilisk's tail and push him out of under that monster." cried Ron, trying desperately to heave the heavy basilisk's tail.

Neville nodded. From Ron's state, he had gathered he would be the one to push Bael out of the way. A weak Wingardium Leviosa later, and Neville pushed his friend out. Now that Riddle was not here anymore, his eyes weren't glazed. Or at least, he had guessed they weren't glazed.

"You look like shit." Whispered Bael to Neville.

Neville almost snorted.

"You don't look much better."

"Ah." Said the boy heavily, tears maring his face, Fawkes still hovering over is body, "I don't feel good either."

Ron and Neville grimaced. Bael's leg had been crushed by the basilisk and three spikes had stayed embed in his body. The phoenix flapped its wing and circles around each spike.

"I think he wants us to pull out the spikes." Mumbled Ron.

"Just be careful." Said Neville, "they're poisonous."

With great care, Ron and Neville pushed them out of his body. Fawkes let slip a couple of tears before pausing on Ron's shoulder.

"I hate snakes." Came Bael's harsh voice after a little while.

Dirty, he looked like he had been dumped in a swamp.

"You have a plushy snake." Remarked Ron, tired.

"I'm throwing it." Replied Bael.

"You're not the only one." Laughed Neville, waiting for Ginny to wake up. He was slowly regaining color.

"You don't get it. I'm dead afraid of these things."

Neville looked at Bael with wide eyes. It was Ron who burst into laugh. Bael was red, from embarassment or anger, Neville couldn't tell.

"Whatever. Can someone tell me what happened now?" muttered the metamorphmmagus, eyes slowly dropping. He fell asleep by the end of his question.

* * *

The four Gryfindors slowly came back to the entrance of the Chamber, Ginny and Neville helping Ron and Bael to advance. It did not help that Neville had to carry the several pounds sword in one hand and the nasty journal in the other.

"Why did you think it was such a good idea to take the spikes?" mumbled Neville to Ron, who was heaving Bael on his back.

The two boys had briefly talked about the duel, but considering Bael had no idea what had happened since he had been imperiused – and then they had realized it – and obliviated, it had been short.

"The memories." Said Ron, "You just can't forget them."

Neville rolled his eyes.

It was only a moment after that, that the small group stumbled upon Tonks form, wo was quickly enervated and then Lockhart. The teacher stayed exactly where he was.

"How do we get up here?" asked Ginny, the only student feeling mostly good out of the now five students.

"Try accio broom." Said Tonks.

Ginny blushed. Tonks slapped her fore-head in realization.

"Idiot." Snickered Tonks, "She's a first-year. She does not know about that spell. Here, _Accio Nimbus 2000._ " she mumbled to herself and then proceeded to wink at Neville.

The five students waited for the broom to come. It swiftly stopped in front of them and Neville watched as Tonks took turns to bring everyone to the surface before taking both Ron and Bael to the infirmary ward.

It left Neville alone with Ginny, both on their way to the Headmaster's office. Dragging behind him the sword, Neville admired the stars in the night as the Castle was finally regaining its senses and giving the two students the most beautiful view of the sky.

* * *

 **Here's the end ;)**

 **You know the drill ... reviews, fav and follow! ^^**

 **See you tomorrow!**


	26. So what, now?

**Short chapter for today  
**

 **Next chapter is the end of the year ceremony by the way, so we're soon approaching third year - and i have something huge planned (that will differ from cannon).  
**

* * *

 _Chapter 26: So what, now?_

The gargoyle in front of the Headmaster's office only swore twice when it saw the battered form of both Neville and Ginny before letting them in. Soaked in mud and blood, they probably were a sight to beheld.

"Ah, my boy. I was waiting for you." Came the gentle voice of the Headmaster. Neville frowned, how was it possible? The Headmaster seemed to read right through his head.

"Ms Pomfresh just received three wounded students."

Neville ahed.

"If you would not mind waiting for a bit as I talk with young Miss Weasley and her parents." Said the old man, as he showed to Neville the back of Ron's parents and Ginny's ushering form.

Neville complied, and counted approximatively 30 minutes before he could go in.

"Thank you!" whispered a tear-streak Mrs Weasley to Neville, "you saved my daughter!"

Neville blushed from the unwanted attention.

"It was nothing." He mumbled.

"No! I don't know how my family can ever thank you for what you've done …"

The mother apologized once more before leaving with her husband and daughter to see the school nurse.

Tentatively, Neville came into Dumbledore's office, wary of all the magical objects. He had heard many times how the study of the Headmaster looked like by Ron and Bael, but not in a million years he had thought it was possible for him to get there without the help of a prank gone wrong.

Albus Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, watching Neville approach. Cowed by the stare, Neville only put the sword and the book on the desk and waited for the Headmaster to speak up.

"What you did tonight was very brave." Bagan the Headmaster. "I only got the echoes from Fawkes, but would you mind telling me what happened?"

So Neville told the Headmaster everything he knew. How he had heard a voice in the walls, how Bael had realized what had happened quickly but had been obliviated and imperiused by a controlled Ginny. How Hermione had then realized what had happened and had led Ron and Neville to the Chamber of Secrets. And the Lockhart event.

The Headmaster listened to Neville intently, not bothering to ask for more details.

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor only appears to the bravest." Said Dumbledore, his eyes sparkling.

Neville nodded.

"Ginny … she said she got the journal by her parents when they got to Diagon Alley …"

"Oh, I doubt Arthur or Molly Weasley did such a thing."

Neville frowned.

"Lucius Malfoy was there too, that day. I remember, there almost was a fight between him and Mr Weasley."

Dumbledore hummed.

"That certainly could be one of Lucius Malfoy's plan to destitute me."

Neville frowned. The Headmaster only smiled.

"Ah, you missed the part where he, as part of the board of governors, tried to expel me."

"So that means we have proof to take him down?" Neville wondered, looking at the journal.

But Dumbledore negated.

"Lucius Malfoy covered his tracks. And I doubt he would push for an investigation either."

"Why?"

"Fear of retribution, I imagine. His sister in law, Mr Black's mother, is quite fierce. And considering Lucius Malfoy can be held accountable for his nephew's degrading health state, I believe he is right now busy trying to escape her clutches."

"Health state?" wondered Neville, "I thought phoenix's tears could heal anything!"

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Oh, they do. It does not mean people know that your friend has been administered phoenix's tears. Yet."

Neville blinked.

"And Ron, Ginny and Tonks? How are they?"

The Headmaster got up and waved his door open.

"Good. I heard from our dear nurse they are in a good shape after all this ordeal. Come, it is your turn to go to the infirmary ward."

Neville cringed. He hated these moments.

"And your parents will have to know about what happened."

And now, he was doomed.

* * *

Bael woke up with a ray of sunlight warming his face. Oddly happy, he opened his eyes on a blurry face. Out of habit, he tried to morph his eyesight, but a slap on the wrist and a mere seconds later, his glasses were forced on his face. With a groan, Bael readjusted them.

"What the ?"

Healer Schiller was bent over his bed.

"well well well, if it is not our sleeping beauty."

"Sleeping beauty?" asked good-naturedly Bael, not minding where he was. He was obviously in good care. Questions would come later.

"It's a muggle count."

Bael shrugged.

"So, what do you want first? The good news, the somewhat good news or the very bad news?"

Bael's eyebrows went to his hairline.

"Uh … good new's first, worst one, last."

Schiller nodded.

"Alright. So, you're healed!" joyously said the doctor, sipping on a cup of tea. "Want a cup of tea?"

Bael dead-panned.

"No."

"Anarchist."

Bael ticked. The Healer always had a weird personality.

"You said I had an incurable disease. That I would die by my 20th birthday." he mumbled, slightly loud enough for the Healer to hear him.

Immediately, the Healer's mood soured down.

"Yes. I did. What I did not expect was for you to engage a _basilisk_ in battle, almost die over it and have a phoenix heal you. You owe the bird your life."

Bael frowned.

"How …?"

The Healer scratched his head.

"You were admitted to Saint-mangoose three month ago in a deplorable state. Loss of considerable quantity of blood, poisoned then healed by a mysterious benefactor – it took my best Healers several weeks to realize a phoenix had swooped in – and very serious memory trouble. So very good news is that you are completely healed and will live a full life. Next news, is that we patched up you head. Turns out it was only blocks and not holes in your mind. And the bad news, is, your dark mark. One of the basilisk spikes speared the dark mark and literally dispelled the curse. Now, only a nice scar is left on that arm of yours. It could reappear overtime, though. Naturally, your parents aren't aware of these events."

Bael was openly gaping, the events of the Chamber of Secrets coming back to memory.

"… my wand?"

The Healer rolled his eyes and pointed to the bedtable where the dark wand laid. Bael heaved a sigh. Appeased, he looked at his left arm, where the tattoo had indeed disappeared. To tell the truth, he was more than happy. Only good news so far. A wide smile was spreading over his face.

"Oh, and now that you're awake, we'll have to run a battery of test. After that, you are admitted back to Hogwarts, where I am happy to tell you, the final exams should soon begin."

Bael whined and begged healer Schiller not to let him come back to the Castle. In vain.

A few hours later – Bael realized it was midday – he was thrust back to the Castle's entrance by a serious looking Healer. Without any ceremonies, the gates opened and let him pass with no trouble. Garbed in only _civilian_ clothes (and a bandaged arm "to regulate the magic flow" had said Schiller), he looked far from your usual Hogwarts student.

"Freedom, at last." Whispered Bael happily.

Hogwarts park was sunny and many students were out. It was with no surprise Bael spotted his friends laughing near a tree. He ran to them excited to hear about the whole adventure.

"Hello." Poked Bael in Hermione's back.

The witch started before laughing and hugging him merrily when she recognized him. Ron ad Neville did the same.

"Good to see you took a shower." Laughed Ron with a high-five at least.

Bael hummed.

"So, what did I miss?"

"Nothing in particular." Began Neville, "You already guessed the whole story. I told you."

"Yeah. I was talking about your greasy walls." Completed Ron.

Bael perked up.

"So you realized it too?" he asked. The blank look he was faced with told him another story. Bael rolled his eyes, "the greasy walls are in the Chamber of Secrets too. And I told you Ron, I made the whole tour of the Castle trying to follow the outline of these walls. The Chamber is just a small part of what is hidden. Thus the basilisk trying to guard the Chamber. It must have held something else. I say we missed something! so, what else was there? Did you look behind the statue?"

Hermione frowned.

"I researched the basilisk. Like all great snakes, they kill their victim before swallowing them whole. They tend to strangle their victims when then can." Said Hermione. "So, I guess there must be some skeletons there."

Bael frowned.

"Yes. They try not to draw blood." he didn't comment the skeletons part, "And I think that's exactly what Salazar Slytherin wanted. No muggleborn blood in the Chamber. I am telling you, there is something to unlock with your blood."

"That's … completely crazy." Said Neville, "And I really don't want to go back down." he added when saw Bael's face. Hadn't he had enough with hospitals?

His three friends looked too nicely at him.

* * *

They all ended up down the chamber once again, with brooms in case of emergency.

Ron and Bael were animatedly talking to each other while Hermione was inspecting the dead basilisk.

"Is it truly dead?" she asked warily - she had never been down, Neville realized.

Just as warily, Neville nodded.

"Come on Hermione." Hurried Bael next to Salazar statue, "There must be something behind that thing."

"I don't think it's a good idea to temper with wards." Muttered Neville. He went unheard by his three friends.

Hermione used her wand to cut her finger a small bit and let a few drop of blood on the wall. As Bael had predicted, a passage opened. It was only a small room, full of glistening coins.

"A vault." Dead-panned Neville.

"It's not galleons." Remarked Ron, taking a hand full of the coins.

As Neville approached, he realized it too. The coins were heavier than real galleons, just as golden as the original ones and there were a lot of engravings on it.

"What are they?" pondered the boy. His ginger haired friend shrugged. He had no idea either.

"We'd better ask Hermione." He said.

Both boys turned back to call Hermione but the two other Gryffindors had disappeared from the room altogether.

"Ok." Began to panic Neville, "It's not even funny. Hermione! Bael!"

"Over there!" called the far away voice of their friends.

Neville and Ron rushed to Salazar statue where a hidden stairway had appeared after Hermione had dropped her blood on it. Both boys gulping and using their wand to lit the passage, they descended. A mere minutes later, the stairs had stopped and left them on a long tunnel. The end was lit by a powerful light.

Running to the end of the passage, both friend hurried up.

At the end of the tunnel, a huge room opened, a room so big, Neville wasn't sure he could see the far end of the wall. No, actually, he could not.

Awed, Neville still took the time to see Bael and Hermione in front of them, bent over the walls.

"What's that?" asked Ron in awe of what was in front of them.

Because in the middle of the room, a floating light was protected by what looked like to be hundreds of magical shields. It produced that blinding light. The walls, Neville noticed, were painted in many colors.

"It's a war story." Whispered both Hermione and Bael pointing to human like forms with spears fighting shapeless forms.

Neville looked back at the walls. He should not have.

"Who are you?" shouted Ron, the only one not to have his eyes riveted on the floating light.

The three other Gryffindors drew their wand immediately. They were cut short by the appearance Ron had seen.

"wait! It's the Castle's form!" shouted Bael, "he does not want to hurt us."

"I'm not so sure about that." Muttered Neville, glaring at the Castle's glowing orbs.

He was right. The Castle lifted its hand and the four Gryffindors were back in the Chamber of Secrets, all alone.

"What was that?" wondered Ron.

Hermione answered him.

"That was the Castle telling us to mind our own business. So, does anyone had the notes for the Transfiguration exam?" she innocently asked.

The three boys groaned.

* * *

Seven days later, the Ron and Neville were gathered in front of the post in their common room.

"So, did you pass?" asked Ron to Neville.

Neville smiled.

"Merlin, yeah. You?"

Ron devious smile answered Neville.

"What about the other two?"

"They finished first ex-aequo."

Neville hummed. Less trouble that way. As he descended the stairs with his trunk for the Hogwarts Express with Ron, they met Bael. He was singing again.

"Happy much?" said Ron.

Bael acknowledged them.

"Yeah. I'm cured guys."

Neville blinked. He had heard the story from the headmaster.

"Cured? I thought you were taking your daily potions?"

Bael waved Ron.

"It's over now! I'm completely fine now! I'll live a long life!"

Ron congratulated Bael with a pat.

"Cool. Help me now?"

Bael laughed and took out his wand.

"Use your head, idiot."

Ron grumbled but he let it pass easily.

"So, how did your parents react to this news?"

Bael froze to Neville's question.

"About that … I still haven't talked to them. And Hermione's letter made it look to them as if I had surrendered a fight. That's just … a big no-no."

"You're in denial." Laughed Ron, hunched over the stair-way.

Bael's glare did not stop him. And Ron's laugh continued all the way to the Hogwarts Express.

The four Gryffindors then gathered in a compartment for the rest of the train ride.

It had been a very quiet ride for once. Ron was sleeping against the window while Neville was reviewing his option for the next year with Bael and Hermione.

"So I took Divination, Care of Magical Creatures and Duel."

Neville saw Bael pull a face. He interrogated him and the boy answered with a passionate speech.

"Divination and Care are useless anyway."

Hermione put in her piece of mind.

"Why do you say that? Your very own park is littered with all sorts of magical creatures. You told us yourself. Why won't you think it's useful?"

Bael swayed.

"Because I already know how to care for them. What lessons did you ask for?"

The witch blushed.

"I took them all. I asked McGonagall and she said I could."

Neville froze. His friend was crazy.

"Even Muggle Studies?" asked Neville.

"Yes! It's the most interesting! I want to know how wizards look at the muggles."

Bael looked severely sick at the thought of muggle studies. His face was quite comical.

"I took runes, duel and arithmancy." Said the boy when he was asked which options he had chosen. "I'm practically sure I won't see Draco there. So it goes my way."

"Lazy ass." Muttered Hermione.

Bael stuck his tongue childishly.

The rest of the ride went along the same lines. Neville was the first to leave the train and join his parents. He had barely any time to wave his friends good-bye that he was already gone, apparated away by his loving mother. Just before, he had seen Hermione and Ron join their own parents and Bael look somewhat lost in the huge mass of people on the dock. The poor boy was trudging his trunk behind him and was animatedly talking with a house elf.

"Neville. Welcome back home." Whispered Alice Longbottom, ruffling her son's hair.

Neville smiled.

* * *

 **Ok, so I don't really like how that chapter ended. I might even update the next one in a few hours to make it up to you ...**

 **Anyway, reviews, fav and follow ^^**


	27. This is the life

**Here we are!**

 **Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby present to you the new chapter!**

 **Just know that third year is going to be nothing like cannon. Like ... nothing. ;)**

 **ps: things will get hectic in a few**

* * *

 _Chapter 27: This is the life_

"This, is the life." Whispered Bael.

Under the setting sun of the first days of summer, laying on a buoy with a niffler on his head and otters swimming all around him, Bael was relaxing in his pool. He had just left the train and had been told by Poena – the house elf - his parents would be absent for the day. They had been called to Saint-Mongoose to check on his newest sibling's health.

"I'm missing something." Mumbled Bael without moving an inch from his place. "I know!"

He lifted a finger and called for his house elf.

"Poena!"

A loud crack was heard. The house elf had apparated next to Bael.

"Does young master needs something?" bowed the small creature.

"Yeah. Do put on the music. You know, with the muggle speakers in my room … just put them here. Oh, and bring me a … sangria!"

If the house elf protested, Bael didn't hear any of it. Soon, the calming beat of the muggle speaker shot up and a glass of fresh sangria was resting in his hand.

"This, now, is the life." Whispered Bael, opening one eye to see his otters playing in the swimming pool. Somewhere farther away in the garden, some of the tigers were lazying around under a tree's shadow.

CRACK.

Bael rolled his eyes, still without moving the rest of his limbs.

"What is it this time Poena?" asked annoyed the metamorphmagus, his hair showing his discontent.

"I is Dobby." Croaked a male version of the Lestrange family house elf's voice.

Bael opened both of his eyes, getting blinded by the sun. Grumbling for himself, he finally spoke up.

"Hey Dobb's! How's it going?"

"I … hum … is fine. Master Lucius has been most kind."

Bael didn't say a word at the obvious lie.

"What have you come for? Relaxing?"

"Me?! Relaxing? Never!" shouted the small creature, getting worked up with a few words, "I would never even think of it! Young master!"

Bael lifted both his hand.

"Hey, hey! Calm down!" Bael cringed at the thought of Dobby punishing himself right in front of his pets. They would leave faster than he would get out of the pool.

Dobby did stop.

"Mistress Narcissa tells Dobby to tells you to comes to Manor Malfoy."

Bael groaned. Dobby had just explained why he should come (something with his parents still being too busy, he would not spat on that).

"Just apparate me in the pool with them all." And Bael gestured to the otters and niffler.

The metamorphmagus could literally feel Dobby's anguish.

"Hum … Mistress Narcissa likes not nifflers."

"They're mine. Me alive, I'll never let them alone." Replied Bael, securing the niffler on his head with his arms.

And to prove said niffler was just a ball of cuteness, it whined. The metamorphmagus ended scratching once more the flurry animal with a satisfied grin.

"As young master wishes." Managed to say Dobby, most definitely thinking about the probable scene the niffler would cause once he would be set free in Malfoy Manor. "Mistress is receiving guests."

"Oh? Who?" asked Bael, "No! Wait, let me guess … her sycophant group of Slytherin, you know, those who graduated the same year as her?"

"Aye." croaked the house-elf. Bael watched him hesitate between punishing himself with one of his cherished speakers and the wall. With a squeal, and to Bael's relief, Dobby chose the wall.

"Dobby! Stop it!" cringed Bael. The sight of the poor house elf hitting himself was so pathetic, it made him wonder if Poena ever did the same. "Just … Apparate me away." It was on these last words that Dobby made Bael disappear from the Lestrange grounds. He came right back in a pool in a noisy _swoosh_ , still under the ray of the sun. "Perfect." Mumbled the metamorphmagus once he had counted the right number of otters in the pool and that his muggle speakers were still on the edge of the pool.

"Is young master wantings something else?" asked once again Dobby on the side.

Over the music, Bael shouted: "A pair of sunglasses!" They apparated right on his face the next second. "Perfect." Whispered the boy, "Hum?" the niffler on Bael's head was moving, "What is it? Where's your twin?" Bael looked around him and saw the tell-tale paw prints of a wet niffler leaving the Malfoy's pool. He froze. "Ah … well, off wreaking havoc in Malfoy Manor once more. Want to stay here?" The niffler was snoring by the time Bael had finished his sentence. "yeah … that's what I thought too. This is the life …" drifting off to sleep, never knowing oil had been splashed on him.

* * *

"Cissy, this is perfect!" ushered a tall brown-haired witch, looking at a set of books.

Narcissa smiled at her friend.

"I'm glad you like it, then. I wasn't sure."

The friend went to hug Narcissa in a swooshing noise.

"Oh no, no, no. This will bore my husband to tears. Perfect!"

Narcissa allowed a smile on her face once more.

"The two of you still haven't made up?" she asked, falsely concerned. To tell the truth, she was bored to hear of their lives.

"No." came out the rushed reply. "I won't forgive him. I mean … Cissy! He punched my mother in the face at a dinner.", Narcissa almost laughed, the scene must have been very humorous, "Robard thinks he can act like Aries did back when we were teenagers!" huffed the woman in front of Narcissa.

Narcissa definitely couldn't hide her smile, even if it somewhat dimmed. Aries – Andromeda's once betrothed – had punched her father, Cygnus Black, in the face at a Christmas party. Granted he had been drunk and high, but the fallout had been mighty. She could not remember a time where she had laughed more than that. At least, she got where Robard Nott had gotten his idea of punching his step-mother.

"And look where he ended up." Muttered back Narcissa, "the graveyard." Narcissa swallowed whole her glass, and looked briefly out of the window. She had, once upon a time, been great friends with Aries.

Her friend shrugged.

"Aries was carefree. He got what he wanted in the end."

The two friends stayed a few moments in their own thoughts, mourning a dear fallen friend. But suddenly, Narcissa was brought out of her thoughts by a moving vase. She clenched her eyes. Was that a tail? A … niffler's tail? Could it be?

A sudden despair at seeing the evil little animal roaming free in her manor took hold of her heart. In a discreet clap of her hands, she ordered Dobby to give chase to the animal, and from the eyes of the house elf, he would not be done in a couple hours, Narcissa remarked. Oh, well. She wasn't going to sweat this over. At worst, she would threaten her nephew to discipline his pets. Narcissa cringed. She knew who had allowed the awful thief-creature into her manor. Her nephew had finally arrived.

Repressing a sigh for the upcoming storm and headache – her nephew had always been such a chore – the blonde witch got up from the sofa. The door to the room both her and her friend were sitting was kicked open at the very same time. In its frame, a witch stood slightly out of breath.

"Sariah. Nice of you to join us." Dead-panned Narcissa, seeing another of her friend.

Said named woman, Sariah, rumbled an apology.

"Sorry Cissy. I got held up by the floo traffic. Did I miss anything?"

Narcissa pointed to the books.

"Nothing important then." Breathed in relied Sariah, "So, Melly," addressed the woman to the brown-haired witch, "what happened now? You seemed distressed in the floo …"

Narcissa waved in annoyance. She knew the story by heart now.

"Just the usual fight with Robard." Explained Narcissa, shortening the tale in great length.

"Usual?!" repeated the scandalized brown-haired woman – now named Melly, "I'll have you known he _punched_ my mother in the face! What is he? A muggle?"

Sariah dead-panned.

"My … it reminds me of …"

"Yes." Smiled Narcissa. "the one and only."

While Melly was ranting about her husband, Sariah sat on the couch. She and Narcissa exchanged a few pleasantries discreetly.

"Which reminds me," said Sariah after an anecdote, "I think I saw your house-elf chasing a niffler."

"I know." Voiced the angry Narcissa, "I believe I even know the culprit."

"Let me guess." Snickered Melly, "Bella. She always had a thing for these creatures. Remember when she let it loose in the Common room once?"

Narcissa pinched her lips. It had been Aries, and Bella had been accused. The two had been waging war on each other for months back in Bella's seventh year.

"No. Her son." Replied Narcissa. She was getting tired of them both.

Narcissa's friends laughed out loud.

"I knew he would be worse than his mother." Managed to say between two laughs Sariah, "Even as a child he was getting into troubles. Remember the wings he tried to grow on his back?"

That sent Melly in another small fit of laughs.

"He got stuck with these for a month, didn't he?"

Narcissa cocked her eyebrows. Somehow, she wasn't surprised her sister had such an unserious son. She waved her head to the window where a corner of the pool could be seen.

 _Talking about the devil … he's in the pool. With … otters? Merlin, please tell me these are otters and not a band of nifflers or unfeathered peacocks._

Repressing yet another sigh at his antics, the woman branched back to the conversation.

"-Draco going?"

"Sorry?"

"Your son, Cissy. How is he doing? He finished his second year, right?"

Narcissa nodded.

"Yes. I haven't seen him much today. He claimed he was tired … he's been in his bed for the whole day."

"You're too nice. We both know how parties end up at the end of the year ceremony." Whispered Sariah.

"Which is why I'm letting him sleep for the day. Besides, my mother's coming tonight for dinner and-"

Narcissa was cut off mid-sentence by the mighty cry of her nephew's fury.

"DRRAAAACOO! YOU'RE DEAD!"

The three witches veered their heads towards the windows, where they could see the last of Xerxès's feet. Narcissa could even hear the footsteps in the house. Either Xerxès, either her son was running inside, knocking down several wealthy looking heirlooms by the crashing sounds. In her peripherical vision, she also saw Dobby still chasing after the niffler – and this time, there was no doubt her friends had seen it. They were gripping their rings quiet tightly.

"Well," began Sariah, dragging behind her Melly, "I think it's time to get going. Good luck with your boys. It was nice to see you today." The two witches promptly left, leaving an angry-stricken Narcissa in the room.

She soon left too, throwing an acerb look towards the poor Dobby. The house-elf was pitiful, with its huge eyes lining the niffler's comings in the house. The creature was hidden behind the curtains not very subtly.

"Get out of my sight." She snapped, striding past the elf without another look. It was once she opened the door that she realized she perhaps should have waited a couple hours and just petted the niffler.

The room was a huge mess, and from the looks of it, spells were flying all over the main living room. Burns were littered on the wall and the chandelier that usually hung on the ceiling was clearly seconds apart from falling and spilling diamonds all over the floor. Narcissa cocked an eyebrow at the sight of her son, completely shaved and sporting a nice blue skin, running toward her with unconcern written all over his face.

"Mooooom!" he whined, approaching her with his childish antics, "Xerxès's being mean!"

A blue spell strode past the two Malfoys, missing Narcissa by an inch. Draco squeaked in fear before hiding behind her with great courage. Indulging a smile, Narcissa turned back to the scene. From what she could tell, the duel – if there ever had been one – had been pretty one-sided. She ought to teach her son the Black dueling method. Merlin forbid, Bella had branded it into her son's brain from birth.

"What happened?" demanded the adult to Draco, narrowing her eyes. She knew that whatever she would ask for, she would obtain a blatant lie. And considering the room was asunder, she could not ask the portraits for any indications. The only one in condition to tell her a shred of truth, was the oldest wizard that no one dared touch in fear of retribution. The last time he had been woken up, Xerxès had almost destroyed the painting with accidental magic. Ever since, Lucius had deemed it important enough to garner a place of honor in the ball room, but the painting had sprouted insult after insult to the Malfoys and then fell back to its original place.

"He did it first!" shouted Draco, and Narcissa almost sighed, feeling a headache coming this way. "Back at Hogwarts! He redecorated the common room!" Narcissa creased her eyebrows and Draco finally relented some more backstory, "I swear I didn't think he would react that way."

" _YOU DIDN'T THINK I WOULD REACT THAT WAY?! YOU LITTLE SON OF A HYPPOGRIFF"_ Xerxès's voice rang through the room. It was the very definition of anger. He stopped his sentence when he saw his aunt, but didn't relent in his anger. And Narcissa understood why once she set her eyes of her nephew's form. Garbed in his swim suit and a lyn shirt, he was completely sun-burnt, pigment altering from a red to white color. Wand drawn in one hand – the gesture seemed to even hurt him – while opening his shirt to show the issue, a huge Slytherin emblem was formed on his chest with the unburnt part. " _I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING MORON!"_

Draco was on the verge of tears, but Narcissa couldn't tell if they were born out of laugher or out of fear. Repressing her own laughs at the sight, Narcissa would have helped her nephew recover from the sun-burn, but being a metamorphmagus, the burnt was literally more resistant than normal people. It would persist for a couple days, even with potions.

"You already look like a moron. Always have." Snickered the old painting no one was paying attention to, the only one that wasn't massacred yet. A blue spell, Xerxès personal favorite gathered Narcissa, weaved through the air to the painting and blast it through the wall. The cries of shock of the old wizard were drown by those of her nephew.

"Alright, alright." Calmed Narcissa, trying not to look at the Slytherin emblem on her nephew's chest, lest she, too, laugh, "stop destroying my property." As expected, her nephew didn't seem to listen and was ready to breath fire on any newcomer. Not batting an eyelash at that scene – Bella used to be the same at that age – Narcissa moved her wand to fix the damage in the room. Just in time, for the floo had just flared up and her mother was coming through.

The horror-stricken cry escaped both Draco's and Xerxès's mouth. Her mother, her, decided to gape openly at both boys, trying to sort out why Draco was shaved and blue and Xerxès red with Slytherin's snake design on his chest.

* * *

"Are you relapsing?" Druella asked, worry evident in her voice. She was addressing the question to her Xerxès, who was being healed by his aunt.

"Stop moving." Hissed Narcissa to her nephew. Laid on the couch, he was glaring daggers at his grandmother, all the while being incapable of speaking at all. A tough green-looking dough was spilled all over his body. "And don't make this face. It's the sun-burns potion."

But Xerxès was still positively looking mutinous. Narcissa heaved a sigh as her mother continued to antagonize Xerxès more on his disease – and there she clearly caught the Xerxès's mumbling of _I'm not fucking disabled_ , Narcissa almost threatened him with her wand. She wasn't spared when she saw Draco, all healed from the earlier spells, preening with a camera.

 _Oh boy, do I feel drama coming._

"I knew Slytherin's color didn't suit you." Whispered Draco to his cousin.

He was gauding Xerxès on purpose, waiting for an explosion. Considering Xerxès had fallen into a deep mutism under his grand-mother's rant, Narcissa knew there was nothing to expect from Draco either. Leaving to wash her hands, Narcissa saw by the window that Lucius and her sister had finally come home. And they were not glaring daggers at each other. Which was a first considering Bella had almost sent a throttling curse at Lucius when she had heard Xerxès had been admitted to the hospital a few weeks earlier. So for once, they were not bantering or bordering on killing each other. The witch went to open the door and greet her sister and husband and hopefully manage the two teenagers. A quick peck on the lips here and a small hug there, and Narcissa could finally stop thinking about today's events.

"How was your day?" she asked, not advancing to the living room and stalling both guests. Dobby was sent to discard the robes and cloaks of the two coming wizard.

"Oh, fine. Nothing particular to note. Nott senior is conducting more research on these ruins and I believe McNair found a new job at the Beheading Belch." Answered Lucius, not noticing his wife paling face. McNair had always disgusted her.

Bellatrix scrunched up her nose, but not for the same reason – McNair and her _were_ good pals.

"What's that smell?" she rudely asked. "Cissy?"

Narcissa sighed.

"Sun-burns potion."

Both Lucius and Bellatrix cocked their eyebrows.

"Draco?" asked Lucius, curious, "I told him not to stay under the sun."

But Narcissa negated her head.

"Xerxès." She answered before her sister could say something along the lines _your peacocks got roasted_ and then start a fight with Lucius. "Just come on in, and please don't start him up. Mom's there by the way."

The grimace both wizards made at the last sentence signified Narcissa they would not have bothered to come home tonight had they known Druella Black was staying here also. The witch rolled her eyes and led the two towards her mother, son and nephew.

As the three adults came into the main living room, they almost went down in laughs – but Cissy knew tonight her and Lucius would laugh for a good hour thinking back on the scene. Druella was still fussing, Xerxès was mummified, his fiery red hair and skin standing out of the green paste, glaring daggers at Draco who was laughing while twirling Xerxès's wand in hand and taking pictures with his camera.

Bella did not hold it in. She cackled wildly and went to poke her son's nose, who whined.

"Care to explain?"

"Bella! Don't do this to your son! He could be relapsing! Don't you have any shame?! I told you not to d-"

Bella didn't pay attention to her mother. Or at least, she didn't grace her mother with an answer. The slight searching of the eyes told Narcissa her sister was looking for any proves indicating an immediate need to go to Saint-Mongoose with her son anyway. She seemed satisfied after a few seconds and ruffled her son's hair.

"So, you weren't here for your sister's birth." She began playfully. But anyone who knew her enough, knew there was unbridled anger under this face.

The glare intensified.

"Don't look at me like that. You're the one who decided to slay a giant snake that night." Replied Bella. As if she had turned on a switch, Xerxès's face decomposed. The obvious question of _How?_ written on his face. "The Dark Mark, idiot." Hissed Bellatrix, swatting Draco out of the couch to sit down in front of her son. "Cissy and I used Occlumency when your Dark Mark was touched. Now, pray tell, what was that, that we saw?" As Xerxès was still embed in the potion/paste, he could not defend himself under the accusations, "Which also reminds me, you'd better have a good explanation to tell us how you fell under the Imperius spell." Was that a shudder running along Xexrxès's spine? "I think I ought to teach you better Occlumency, don't I?" Xerxès was still as a statue and the people around him were waiting for answers. Narcissa had wafted her mother and son away the moment Bella had begun to talk about the Dark Mark, not to Draco's pleasure at being stuck with his grandmother.

Narcissa came back in the room to see Lucius and Bella talking to Xerxès.

"He can't talk nor move. Give it time, Bella." Pipped up Lucius, oddly defensive of his nephew for once. But as Xerxès was stilled in silence, his good attention was completely overlooked.

"Rod's coming soon with Kyla." Said Bella, changing the subject of conversation abruptly, but her eyes were still fixed on her son. She demanded Dobby bring her a glass of Whiskey neat as she casually talked about her day. Narcissa sat next to her and Lucius left to do his bidding. Both women could tell Xerxès wanted to be anywhere but here. Unfortunately, he wasn't given any choice in the matter. He would be stuck for the day, waiting for the potion to take hold.

"I left Saint-Mangoose before the end of the examination. I really couldn't stand the room any longer. Too much bad memories." Finished the dark-haired witch, floating eyes on the horizons.

Narcissa tried to comfort her sister as much as she could – with a patting of the hand or other gestures – but utterly failed. The sad gaze said as much.

"I don't know the end result, if that's the question." Snarled Bella, eyes unseeing.

Xerxès sudden moves caught the two witches' attention. With a painful looking sneer, he articulated

"Why Kyla?"

Bellatrix regarded her son with a calculated look.

"It's your favorite star."

The stare down between mother and son was particularly unnerving to watch, but Narcissa couldn't do anything to stop it. From the very beginning, she had learnt the two functioned like this.

"No." replied Xerxès, "It's not. It's the bri-"

"The brightest star is a boy's name." placated Bellatrix.

Xerxès huffed.

"You met with Healer Schiller today?"

Bellatrix cringed her teeth at Cissy's question.

"Yes. He was way too much upbeat, once again. I swear that man doesn't know the meaning of serious. He even had the gall to congratulate me before tests were done on Kyla."

"He didn't tell you anything?" wondered Xerxès this time, a different edge to his voice.

"Tell me what?" demanded Bellatrix, picking the witch's interest, "Xer, tell me what? Xer?" there was a small warning tone. But as she was about to grill her son for more information, Rodolphus rang at the Manor's doors. "I swear," rolled her eyes Bellatrix, "He still rings after this whole time of knowing Malfoy Manor."

"He's being polite." Smiled Narcissa, standing up to greet her brother in law, "And you're being down-right rude. While I go and greet Rod, do help your son with the paste. The effect should wear off in a few now."

Bellatrix snickered but complied nonetheless. With a swish of her wand, the paste was gone, only for her to admire Draco's work of art. Her laugh echoed through the corridors and carried her voice to Rodolphus in the doorway.

* * *

Bael felt positively embarrassed.

Sun-burns were rare for him. He could spend hours under the sun and not redden in the slightest. The only way for him to catch one, was to put on oil. Which he had gathered quickly, Draco had done that. But he had to concede, the prank was funny. The aftermath, was a little less funny for him though.

Even after chasing down his idiot cousin, Bael had to grimace at the ache. His whole skin was scratching him. But things could have gotten better had his grandmother not swooped in and insisted on him being sick again. At her every sentence, it made him feel like a disabled man. Slowly but surely, he was being ticked off. And from the side lines, Draco and his aunt were laughing.

"Ah Ah Ah! I'm dying." Whispered the boy but he went unheard by the people present. And then his mother and uncle had come.

Honestly, Bael didn't know which was worse. His mother snickering at his red form or her implying she knew he had some run ins with the Chamber of Secrets. Now, that was downright frightening. Not to forget she had not forgiven him for his absence at _Kyla_ 's birth. Urgh. Kyla. Wasn't it one of the banished names of old? He would have to look into the book constellation, he could not remember it. And now, a few hours later, skin still red, but not as much as earlier, he was at the table, gathered around the table with his whole family, bar Rabastan. The klutz had decided to spend the night with "a lady friend". And Draco had feigned illness to stay in bed. Bael would have done the same, had his grandmother not been there. The ugly old witch would have sent him to the hospital right away if he so much as breathed a bit too harshly.

And now, it was time for the yearly explanation.

"So let me get this straight." Mumbled his father – the reunion had been short, a pat on the shoulder, which had elicited a whimper from Bael - sun-burns and all -, before Rodolphus had apologized and asked for the humiliating news of the day – "You got plowed under a basilisk which got skewered by _Neville_ _Longbottom_ , of all the people, and whose spikes speared through your Dark Mark _and_ made it disappear. And all of this was mastered by a certain Tom Riddle, a dead _Slytherin_ prefect who happened to be the last heir of the Founder."

A pregnant silence filled the atmosphere.

" _Basilisks don't frigging exist!_ " shouted Rodolphus, a vein popping out of his skull, eyes boring into his son's. _"You don't even bother to try and make up a realistic story!"_

Bael was admittedly wary of his father. He rarely shouted, even less at him.

" _What is that!"_ snapped the dark-haired man to his son, pointing to the huge dagger-like fang Dobby had apparated on Bael's orders just on the moment.

"That, is the basilisk's fang. I took a few bits when I could." Mumbled Bael, not feeling so proud under the withering glares of his family. The cackling noises his grandmother made from time to time to comment on his crazy adventure (mainly, a good "your son is stupid, Bella") didn't help to make him feel emboldened. Rodolphus snatched the fang away, "I'd be careful if I were you, there's a lethal poison coating that damn thing." Managed to croak out Bael.

Rodolphus froze, hands now being very careful of not touching bare-skinned the fang.

"And how are you still standing if you tell me a spike speared your arm?" he grunted, examining the fang. Being an expert in magical creatures – even if unwillingly, thank you the family business – had its perks. From the face, Bael gathered his father couldn't rightly place the fang, besides saying it did belong to a very big snake/dragon creature.

Bael waited to add drama. His family was so over the top sometimes. He could not wait for the paintings shouting, at the very least.

"Didn't I tell you already?" he could see his parents cringing and Lucius not caring at all what was being said – he was focused on his journal, "A phoenix healed me!"

"What?!" this time, his mother was by his side with a speed Bael didn't think she was capable of, taking his head in her hands and making him look into her eyes.

"yes … I'm completely cured." Finished Bael with a grin, "Healer Schiller did the tests. 'Came back negatives."

"You're … cured …" breathed down his mother – his father was shock-stilled but his eyes were wide open in sheer disbelief - , not believing her own words. She engulfed him into a hug, surprising Bael by the tender gesture. "Idiot." She whispered, stroking his hair gently, "We were so, so worried."

Bael did feel his heart constrict. He hugged back his mother. His father soon followed after.

* * *

 **So, just a tender moment in the Lestrange family. They'll get scarcer though ... ;)**

 **also, from now on, chapters will be around 10 Word pages - so don't expect anymore 7,000 words chapter**

 **Anyway, review, fav and follow!**

 **see you tomorrow!**


	28. The ruins of my heart

**Hohoho**

 **Are you telling me I missed a day? Hahaha ... I don't know what this is all about ;)**

 **Also, you might want to check the chapter 26: So what, now?**

 **Also THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS FOLLOWS AND FAVORITES! You guys make my day 😁**

 **Anyway, here we go ^^**

* * *

 _Chapter 28: The ruins of my heart_

 _Bael or Xerxès … Even to this day I'm not sure what to call him. He … he was somebody I hated as much as I loved. I wanted to be as free spirited as he was. And yet … he was the one bound in so many curses and cycle of hatred he couldn't move. This summer, he rekindled with his family. Something I know he regretted later on. If you could meet him now, he would tell you what a fool he had been. That he should have left the country when he had the chance, and just never return to this wretched land. His words. Not mine. Sometimes, I remember him muttering how wrong this year unfolded, that he should have realized it sooner …_

* * *

« I'm not so sure … » muttered Bael. He was bent over a chess board, playing against his father.

"It's your choice, son." Answered back Rodolphus, smocking heavily. Bael scrunched up his nose at the awful smell. "Nott needs the DMLE for some law things. Bella won't come for sure and I really don't want to be alone there."

In other words, Bael thought, it was his father's way of asking for a father-son bonding time.

"How long is that supposed to be?" asked Bael as he moved yet another piece and crushed his father's knight into crumbles.

"The whole day." Mumbled back the adult, looking at the chess board, a bit irritated to be beaten by his son. "But there should be very important and interesting people here. You'll get to meet the minister, Unspeakables, Na-Dragons and possibly even the Decryption Department."

Bael frowned. He wasn't particularly fond of the Minister, Cornelius Fudge. He had seen him in passing several times, and the man had not left any lasting impressions.

"Why are you telling me this again? And won't Bones be there? With Aurors?"

Rodolphus grinned at his son.

"Na. I just mentioned people you haven't met yet. The others are worthless." Bael sweat-dropped at the words, "And I thought you were interested in these ruins? Nott said there were plenty little mysteries in the walls, so many actually, the Department still didn't solve them all. Or so he says …"

Bael's interest was peaked.

Ever since the beginning of the summer, he had felt bored. The first days, weeks even, had been delightfully nice. For the first time in a decade, his family was almost fine. If you didn't count the slight border-manic fondness of dark or just as unnatural subjects. Which was exactly what was bugging Bael. There had been no fight.

Truth to be told, he had not pushed his parents over the edge too. Bael had spent some good time with his newest sibling, pestering his mother about Kyla and passing time by the pool with his animals. And his father and him were finally back to a normal relationship. The awkwardness sometimes hung in the air, but nowadays it just left as if any strife between the two men had never existed.

The Dark Mark disappearing from his arm? Nothing had happened. His father's very words had been _It was just a baby mark. Ask your mother for the real one._

Ahahaha. Bael had laughed internally. That had been about as much of a fight as there had been for the whole summer.

"So, do you want to come? I thought old things interested you."

Bael shrugged. Why not, after all.

These ruins, discovered by Nott senior had been the talk of the summer in the Daily prophet. It was still a relatively closed area, but rumors were spreading like wildfire. Every day, another insignificant news would fall, about the size, the curses and spells bound to the place. All of these, Bael was almost sure were false. His father wouldn't let him come if these rumors were true … right?

"But … are you sure it's alright to take me with you on your job?"

Rodolphus hummed, happy that his son seemed to agree to come.

"Don't you worry about that. The Minister is bringing his son too, and Bones her niece."

Bael cringed. He knew Susan Bones, and to be honest he was not particular fond of the girl. She always had been awkward, always stuttering when he talked to her.

"Ok … I guess I'll come. We can visit any part we want to?"

Rodolphus nodded.

"You just have to be with an Unspeakable or an Auror. I can't wait to take you to the _Openiare_ , it's the largest room we've found so far - and the most exciting one if you want a pice of my mind."

Bael moved another piece on the chess board, not really listening to his father's rambling. On a side-thought, he flicked opened the window to let the smoke escape the room. Bael could finally breathe correctly.

"-and the spell brings you back to your original place. No one found a way to counter the curse or even see what's inside that huge cloud."

Bael cocked an eyebrow. It sounded oddly like what a curse-breaker should be very adept at detecting and breaking easily. As he voiced his question, his father quieted them down.

"I told you, the spells are so old, even the curse breaker can't do much. There is a theory going on about another rune core that we don't know of yet."

Bael stood in his chair, listening to his father comments for a good twenty more minutes, a small smile gracing his features. As strange as the scene could be, the two men were animatedly talking about the next day, both of them excited for it. Which was the scene Bellatrix walked in on. Both Bael and Rodolphus didn't particularly care for Bellatrix's entrance – they were much too engrossed in their conversation and chess party to notice the witch. She stopped, clearly suspicious. The fact the house had been mostly empty of any temper tantrums when her son was home was exceptionally rare.

"Oh, mom." Greeted Bael carefully, "Didn't see you there. Whatcha doing?"

Bellatrix frowned at the words. Her son had contracted that habit of talking in abrieviatons and it was getting on her nerves far faster than it was on Rodolphus. A quick glance to her husband showed her, he was amused. And the manic grin of her son told her he was exaggerating his speech habit just to annoy her.

"Stop it." Mumbled Bellatrix, rolling her eyes, "You're acting like a baby."

Bael's grin didn't falter.

"Whatever. You haven't answered." He replied.

Bellatrix pouted a slight bit when she got to the cabinet.

"Just taking some booze."

"You shouldn't." groaned Rodolphus, lifting his cigar from his mouth.

"And why not?" sarcastically asked Bellatrix, reaching for the bottle.

Bael left the room before his parents could begin one of their usual dispute. That, of all the summer, was a constant Bael was perfectly happy to see had not left. Too much change to his poor heart, and his brain would not be able to process it all. From over his shoulder, Bael heard his father shout to him to be ready tomorrow at dawn.

Bael groaned. If he had known that accompanying his father to the ruins equaled to getting up at dawn, he would have severely reconsidered it. With a pout, Bael left to go to his bedroom. The night was setting in, and he was eager to be tomorrow nonetheless. With very few movements, Bael changed into his nightwear and slipped under his fur covers. A swish of the wand blew the candles away and let Bael plunge into a deep slumber.

* * *

 _Sorry, I can't stop from interfering. These memories … it took me some time to get them. People in these days are not as trusting as they once were. These, here, are a mix. And I honestly can't tell you which are fabricated or embellished. I think, it was just a momentary loss of consciousness that allowed people to act the way they did. This place I'm about to show you is still … a mystery. Only one person knows the truth, one. And I doubt very much that person would tell you now what it is. Not after all this time spent in silence._

 _I move from my place. It's windy outside. I can see the trees moving. And as I look around, I remember I shouldn't be here. This is not my place. This … belongs to a dead man. And dead men don't talk._

* * *

"Ah! Rodolphus, good to see you here."

Bael identified the voice swiftly. There was no doubting it, it belonged to the Minister in person, Sir Cornelius Fudge. The wizard was standing a bit to the right of Bael and his father, with Bones and her niece. Bael vaguely noticed the slight wave of Susan but he decided to ignore it when he saw his father's eyes mouthing a name oddly looking like _Ashworth_. Bael almost rolled his eyes.

"Cornelius." Acknowledged Rodolphus, shaking the hand of the pudgy Minister, "Here, let me introduce you to my son. Xerxès, meet the Minister."

Bael bowed and exchanged the formalities swiftly. He remarked he was already taller than the Minister was, even with his bowl hat.

"Ah, the famous Xerxès. I have heard many tales of you." Ushered the Minister, "Here, this is my son, Salor. He finished Hogwarts two years ago, so you probably haven't met with him. He's on track to be Auror." Boasted the man, obviously proud.

Bael shifted his eyes to the awkward looking teenager next to the Minister. The poor lad's face was eaten by acne which accentuated the youth look. Pale, no beard, blonde hair beginning to recede, he was the very nightmare boys at Hogwarts refused to be. Bael gulped, touching his own face where he could feel the very first beard-hair pricking his finger. He had been very proud to shave it too, under his father's shining eyes and grin.

Bael turned his head back to the conversation, just in time to hear his father calling out to him and telling him to meet him back here in 5 hours.

"You can visit anywhere you want to with Auror Jobard." Exclaimed the Minister before leaving with Amelia Bones and Rodolphus Lestrange.

Bael felt really bad for the Auror. His mission was to basically assist children for the whole morning. And from the long face the Auror was pulling, he was not very pleased at the news either. He still refrained from speaking and listened to the Minister. He followed the three children – actually two since the Minister's son was already an adult, but the man looked so young he could easily pass for a Hogwarts student.

Side by side, Bael and Susan walked a bit ahead of the other two wizards. Not on Bael's choice, he was simply walking ahead of the others to witness first all the new sights. The ruins they were walking through were oddly arranged and a huge cloud was hovering over the structures on the far right. A temple-like structure laid right in front of them. Many others were littered all over the site.

"My aunt told me that in each temple, there's a book, a painting and a tomb." Hummed Susan.

Bael cocked an eyebrow, questions running all over his head. He was so curious. With a look at the imperturbable Auror, Bael entered the temple with Susan. The witch was right. The place wasn't grand. It was just a huge tomb that laid in the center of the shrine or temple of sorts. On the ceiling, a painting, depicting centaurs, wizards and a weird arena and a door in the middle, was glaring – yes glaring, each pair of eyes were focused on the new comers.

Bael shrugged it off. He was used to this attention. Back at home, this is the kind of glare the paintings liked to cast on the poor living people. Instead of straying too far on the painting, Bael watched the tomb. It was as bland as one could be. There was no epitaph, no inscription to indicate whom it could have belonged to.

"Was it opened?" asked Bael to the Auror. Feeling nice, the Auror answered him gently.

"No. the whole temple is built with anti-magical rocks. You should feel the effects in a few." He said, looking intently at Bael's face.

Bael frowned. He _was_ feeling his magical abilities wearing off. He didn't particularly like it, too. It was part of his identity.

"Wow. When was the last time you had your hair cut?" asked Susan, poking lightly at Bael's lengthening curly hair.

Bael shrugged.

"I can't remember. I usually don't need to cut it." He mumbled, unhindered by it. With a quick gesture he had seen his mother and aunt do many times, Bael knotted his hair loosely. "Where's the book you mentioned?" he diverted, too curious not to look into it.

Susan pointed to Salor. He was already hunched over an old but thin looking book. But he dared not to touch the pages. The Auror had stopped him from doing so.

Bael and Susan approached the book too. And they saw why it was not to be touched. The pages were writhing away. And the slight shivering of air told Bael there was a spell protecting the torn pages.

"How is that spell still working?" Bael asked the Auror, "You said there was a special rock countering magic."

The Auror grinned beside Bael.

"You're sharp. As expected from a Lestrange." Bael frowned, he had not been called Lestrange in some time now. The name felt weird now, "It's actually one of the mysteries. Unspeakables are working to see how to recreate that feat. You'll find that whoever cast spells, he did it over the whole site."

Bael nodded, entranced in the story. He looked back at the book where he noticed that on the handwritten pages, one name was underlined. Sidon. And just before the line, a number in roman letters, XVIII, then two in the standard writing, [1,3 ], were scribbled. Bael frowned and pointed to it.

"What does it mean?"

The Auror shrugged.

"You'll find one in each book in each temple. But the line in question refers to a dude named Sidon calling on four mighty beasts."

Bael pinched his lips.

"I meant the numbers." He mumbled.

The Auror grinned.

"Find out for yourself. This is classified."

Bael rummaged his head, trying to know if it was worth it to decrypt the code. His father had told him there were many things to be understood yet. If only Hermione had been here, she could have helped him decipher the numbers, mused Bael, not listening to Susan's ramblings.

Humming to himself as Salor and Susan began to visit the back of the temple, Bael cracked a smile.

"The first normal number is the paragraph's number, the second normal number is the line in which the name is underlined and the number in roman letters is the number of the chapter." Whispered Bael smugly to the Auror, after having visited two more temples.

Auror Jobard sent him a sour look.

"You took less time to realize it than the two others." Mumbled the Auror mentioning to Susan and Salor.

Bael shrugged. The real question was now, what to do with these numbers? That, the Auror admitted the decryption Department was still working on it. From the amused smirk, Bael figured the department had deciphered some pretty intense information out of it.

"When was it built?" asked snottily Salor to the Auror once the small group left the temple to go look for another one. This time, the painting depicted mermen and wizards fighting together. The rest of the structure was sensibly the same as the first one the group had visited before, save for the book's name and numbers.

"The head-chief said around a 1200 to 1000 years ago." Replied irritated Jobard.

Bael and Susan left the two adults talk more about the age of the structure.

"So, which one it is this time?" asked Susan to Bael who was hovering over the worn book of yet another temple.

"Chapter 5, paragraph 2, line 5, name Rasa." Automatically said Bael.

"Why don't you go look for each name?" suggested the Auror, "Perhaps you'll find something."

The obnoxious tone made it clear it was just to occupy the three children. But Susan enthusiasm got the better of Bael and soon, he was thrown into a wild goose chase. On Susan's orders – which oddly reminded Bael of Hermione's behavior – Bael had to write down the names and numbers. He playfully tagged along.

"Just how many of these things are there?" muttered Bael, fed up after copying the _60_ _th_ line.

"Just two more!" gushed Susan, taking Bael by the arm and pushing him inside yet another temple.

Truth to be told he was feeling lost in these ruins. All temples looked alike. Glancing at his watch, Bael it would soon be time to meet up with his father, and he dearly hoped the Auror knew the way back or they would have to search for hours.

As the group came out of the last temple, midday was fast approaching.

"So, you find something?" mumbled the Auror, tired.

Bael and Susan ignored the Auror and left Salor alone to debrief over the list they had

"That's weird …" said Susan, frowning, "I'm sure I've heard these names before."

Bael nodded affirmatively. That was because these were noble's names, and to be more precise, all of the _second_ generation names of the sacred 28, both patriarch and matriarch. Which left him with six odd names.

"There's nothing to see in that." Sneered the Auror, approaching the two Hogwarts students.

Bael wiped his head to the mean Auror in a clip second.

"Actually," he began, smug because he knew he would lecture the man "These are all the names of the 2nd generation of the sacred 28. And six more others, which I think were part of the three lines forgotten with time, either disgraced, or slaughtered. Pick one." With a satisfied smile at seeing the irritated look of the Auror, Bael taunted him, "You really should brush up on your genealogy."

But it was Susan who caught Bael's attention for the rest of the morning.

"Incredible!" she gushed, "How did you guess? I mean, why did you bother to learn all of these names? The 1st generation, everybody knows of it, but the 2nd … do you know the 3rd and 4th too. Have they done something in particular? I thought the records were lost and it was impossible to connect it back!" she gushed over Bael.

Said metamorphmagus was losing his patience. With clenched teeth, he answered.

"No, I don't know the 4th generation. Yes for the 3rd. You'll find the names in a genealogy book. And the dates don't match because the 2nd generation people are not the sons and daughters of the first. Just relatives." He managed to greet without angering too much the girl.

Susan clasped her hands, red tinging her cheeks.

"That's awesome!" she babbled some more.

That's when Bael registered something. Susan was usually not that outgoing. It tipped him wrong. What more … her eyes. Her pupils were completely dilated although they were right under the rays of the sun. Bael frowned, wasn't that a symptom of … wait, was he drunk too? Bael stumbled, clearly not having anticipated a rock to be so close to his feet.

That didn't go unnoticed by Auror Jobard who narrowed his eyes at the two students. Bael still managed to control himself. He was getting dizzy, but he still could use a temple's wall to stay upright. Nonetheless, now he was thrilled to get to know what was triggering these effects.

Bael's questions were soon answered when he saw a bunch of Auror in their magenta robes running towards Auror Jobard.

"Mind the stray spell! The excavation team triggered something!" shouted one of them, wand drawn, waiting for something to happen. The only that happened was Susan's wretching. Closing his eyes, Bael's reaction was only to laugh like a maniac, until tears strode down his face.

The Aurors looked disgusted at Susan and very worried at Bael.

"I think," began Auror Jobard, wand in hand, "the stray spell you were talking about targeted only the children." He strode over Bael form and swished his wand, "they're drunk."

* * *

Bael regained his senses after a while. Jobard was feeding him some potion, most likely designed to ward off hangovers and sober up people. A couple minutes after ingesting the potion, Bael's sluggish motions stopped and his slurring left just as fast. Embarrassed by the ordeal, Bael promptly tried not to look into any adult's eyes – which was very complicated seeing as there were a bunch of Auror planted firmly next to Jobard. And they were all snickering.

Bael ticked.

"Shouldn't we meet for the gathering?" he grumbled.

Jobard pointed his watch.

"Not for another hour, son. Still troubled?" he replied none to pleased with himself.

"What was that stray spell anyway?" asked Bael, his pride not allowing to show how hurt he had been.

The Aurors stopped laughing.

"Told you already. The excavation team tried to open one of the tombs. But the spells ricocheted and exploded in the sky."

Bael frowned. He had not even heard it. Deciding he had enough of the mockeries, Bael isolated himself from the adults. He had no particular envy to speak to Salor either, the douche had laughed too. And Susan was sleeping, her back to a temple.

Bael had this sudden idea to go look around. The place was huge and yet everything looked the same. He needed to take some height. Which was why Bael was now mounting the small mountain overlooking the ruins. He could literally feel the glares of Auror Jobard on his back, probably wondering what he was up to. But Bael couldn't care less. He had an objective.

The young metamorphmagus's brows creased when he realized the tingling sensation of that anti-magic rock came back. Whatever he was crouched upon, it was not meant for wizards. Yet, hand imprints on the rocks told him otherwise. Other people had climbed it. And used the same paths. Hidden in the rock, there were sometimes enough space to put both feet and stay standing. But the view was the same. Still a sea of temple and this huge cloud obviously hiding something.

"What's behind the cloud?" he suddenly asked Auror Jobard, his voice reaching the Auror's voice easily.

The Auror narrowed his eyes at Bael, not liking his attitude. And now that his fellow Auror had left him with all his charge, he was stuck babysitting.

"Nothing." Replied the Auror.

Bael let himself go down and came back to his original place next to the Auror.

"I thought there was something about that cloud. Dad said people always ended up at their starting point."

The Auror pinched his nose.

"Yes. But that's it. There's nothing inside. If you want to get lost, be my guest."

Bael shrugged. The place _was_ a maze. It wouldn't surprise him if skeletons had been found. People must have gotten lost a lot.

"Fancy a small walk?" asked Bael to Salor.

The boy rudely gestured to him to get lost by himself. Not feeling undeterred by the action, Bael went to wake up Susan and ask her the same question. Her innocent answer made Bael grin.

"And with a majority here, we can go to the cloud!" exclaimed the boy, not waiting for the Auror. He knew he would be obliged to follow them. And since there had been no restrictions of wherever they could go, Bael had planned to visit the most.

"Are you sure about that?" asked Susan shakily, eyeing the cloud with a tinge of fear.

Bael rolled his eyes.

"They wouldn't have allowed us on the grounds if the place was so dangerous."

Bael knew the witch by his side had almost retorted something about the stray spell, but Bael ignored her. Hot on their tracks, Salor and Jobard were following, both grumbling some odd words here and there.

As Bael and Susan went into the cloud, they both understood why people said it was impossible to weave a way through the cloud. It was simply obscuring the sight so much, one could not see farther than an arm-length away.

On instinct, Bael reached for his wand. He was stopped by Auror Jobard.

"It won't be necessary. More talented wizards have tried almost all the spells and didn't come up with anything."

Bael heaved a sigh, shooting a passing rock. Embed as they were in the cloud, the only way to leave was to walk until the spell deemed the people lost enough to bring them back to their original place.

"So, anybody got something to say?" asked Bael.

Besides him, Bael felt Susan shrugged.

"Salor? Jobard?" he asked again when he heard no reply.

Susan's grip on his arm tightened. Bael grimaced and turned his head to ask what was wrong. He quickly saw the issue.

"They're … gone …" he whispered.

"I guess the spell found them lost before us." Muttered Susan, definitely frightened.

Bael shrugged. It almost felt like a déjà-vu. With Ron.

"Let's continue. Ultimately, we'll come back to where we were."

Susan didn't leave his side by a centimeter. Which was annoying Bael to no end, but he had no choice.

* * *

"I told you so." Muttered Jobard when he felt the ray of the sun touching his face. He was back to the "entrance" with Salor. "Once you get too much inside, you are redirected back to-"

The Auror stopped, mouth wide open when he realized both Susan and Xerxès were not with him.

"They were right in front of us!" shouted scandalized the Auror, not understanding what was happening. First the stray spell, and now the cloud.

The Minister's son shrugged. Not talking too much, he managed to ask a sensible question for once.

"Perhaps it's got something to do with age."

The clever and not expected reply stopped the Auror dead in his tracks. Right now, he was feeling the distinct prickle of fear washing his face. If Amelia Bones and Rodolphus Lestrange were to hear of their relatives disappearing in a huge cloud experts had deemed as _unknown,_ he would be screwed.

"Alright, we're going back inside." Muttered the Auror, dragging back Salor with him. He had lost two of his charge. He was not leaving the last one alone.

"What?!" shouted the boy/man – Jobard still had yet to qualify him properly, "I'm the Minister of magic's son. I am not entitled to follow you!" eructed the boy – Jobard had decided. Jobard glared at the boy with his wand drawn. Said boy gulped and relented, "Alright, alright. Let's go. And let's forget I ever said anything."

"Good boy." Hummed Jobard. He was not on a good mood, and he was not waiting for his nerves to snap. It wouldn't be pretty. "Now, let's hope Croaker won't hear of it too." He mused aloud.

Unfortunately, after a couple of minutes the two were back to the entrance. And it was getting on the Auror's nerves very quickly. His poor heart was pounding way too hard for such a nice day.

Very soon, screams were heard. And they were coming from the cloud. Jobard's blood ran cold. He could recognize the voices … or more accurately, the only two people in the cloud right now were his lost charges.

"Shit. By Morgana's thunder, they said the zone was clear …" he muttered, getting back in the cloud, this time specifically telling Salor to stay on the marches of a temple – the same one they kept getting back to once they left the cloud.

Jobard ran back looking for the two children wand drawn. He must have crossed them on the way because he distinctly saw a gush of wind in the very still landscape. Soon followed after a huge snake, which size was mind-numbing. Jobard could swear the diameter of the snake was larger than his own waist. He still gave chase to the thing, hoping the children were not hurt. As long as they kept screaming, it meant they were still alive.

Jobard ran long and hard, striding the snake and magistrally failing to hinder the creature. Even the spells didn't work – but he put that to the ambient atmosphere annulling magic. He could bet his wand the cloud did just that.

The Auror was surprised to see that even after a good ten minutes or so, he was still in the cloud. He was sure he was running in circles.

"I WANT TO LEAVE!" screamed the high pitched voice of the girl – Susan Bones, supplied Jobard's brain.

"SHUT UP AND RUN!" came back the other's voice with a very real tinge of fear. The lad was frightened and it could be felt from miles away.

Jobard sped up, he couldn't be outrun by children. A creature he could understand – even if the huge snake should not have such a speed – magical environment could have enhanced it. As if his prayers had been answered, Jobard heard the tell tale sound of a body crashing down.

"GET UP!" screamed the boy just as fast, before seeming struggling to breathe.

Jobard gathered the girl had finally run out of breath. Fortunately he was not and he fell on the scene a few seconds later. There he met the huge snake's face. It was opening its jaws and trying to swallow whole the metamorphmagus boy. Said boy was also being strangled by the snake. Without a thought, Jobard rushed into action and attacked the snake. The creature dodged the spell and immediately let the boy go away. He was barely breathing, his body was shutting down. Jobard tried to throw another spell when the snake simply changed his form.

"What …?" muttered Jobard

Gone was the huge snake and the two teenagers. Instead, a precipice was right under his feet and he was running at full speed inside.

Suddenly, Jobard was stopped and slammed down by a body.

"Huff!" breathe down the Auror, looking very quickly up.

"Shut it." Muttered the boy, "What is wrong with you?" It was, Jobard realized, the young Lestrange boy, "You kept on shouting and throwing spells everywhere. You almost touched us."

Jobard stood up with Bael. He shakily tried to answer.

"I was looking for you! And where is the other one?"

Bael narrowed his eyes. He clearly didn't believe the Auror. With pinched lips, Bael showed him the other girl. She too was looking at him strangely. She was the one to break the ice, too.

"What were you chasing? I thought there was nothing here." She asked, not serene at all.

Jobard almost answered _I thought so to_ o but he didn't want to worry her. The fact he had seen a monster snake rack and try to kill the two was not easing the Auror's mind though. Something was playing with his mind. Shuffling his feet, Bael pointed his finger right in front of him.

"That's weird. This sensation and magic …" both Susan and Jobard looked at Bael, both annoyed.

"Whatever." Cut Jobard, "We're going back."

Bael shrugged. He was not listening either. Mesmerized by the place – which was still a bland as one could be, thought Jobard – he was walking in different directions all by himself. Irritation crossed Jobard's face.

"Stop it! You can't walk like this wherever you want to go!" shouted the Auror, gripping then the boy by the shoulder.

Bael stopped.

"We're lost. No matter what happens, it's not up to us. So I say, instead of being sitting ducks, we move."

Jobard groaned. Susan was following her friend and he had no choice, but to follow the children.

"How did you find me?" muttered finally the Auror.

Susan was the one to answer him.

"You were shouting. And the mist kind of … disappeared and showed us a trail to follow."

Jobard frowned. He had never heard that before.

"Yeah." Repeated Bael, "it's exactly like Ho-" Bael never had the chance to finish his sentence. He had sprawled to the floor, dragging with him both Jobard and Susan. "Somebody's here." He whispered.

Jobard had seen it too. A green spell had just flown overhead. As he was not in duty per say, he could not leave the two teenagers and pursue whoever had cast the killing curse. However, he had a sinking feeling he didn't want to know who it was.

"We need to get out of here" urged Susan, clearly she had enough fear for the day. She was gripping her wand tightly in case things got worse.

The other one didn't fare much better, remarked Jobard. He was simply better at hiding it.

"Find ya ~!" croaked a hard voice in a sing-song.

As a reflex, Jobard drew his wand. He could feel the anxiety rolling off of the two teenagers adding to his poor heart. Also, his brain found it amusing to remind him all spells were rendered useless within the cloud.

The sight that stood before him was definitely one to fill his nights with nightmares. There, standing merely a few feet away, stood a crooked wizard, grim on his face, teeth completely rotted. In one hand, he held on a dark object Jobard couldn't identify. On the other one, a perfectly well cared for white wand.

"Shit." Jobard heard Bael mutter, "What's he doing here?"

The whisper was all but discreet. And the crazed wizard heard it if his manic grin was anything to go by.

"The Dark Lord will hear of it." Laughed the wizard, wand drawn.

Jobard was filled with anguish and dread. That man was completely crazy. Jobard didn't wait to be killed and threw a hex at the man to restrain him. It seemed to shock him enough to answer. Instead of the normal reaction – which should have been a fend, a curse or whatever – it ended with a crazed yell.

"I WAS RIIIGHT! ALL ALONG I WAS RIGHT! I WILL KILL YOU" the unknown man yelled, throwing suddenly in every direction green spells, not really targeting anyone.

In a part of his mind, Jobard realized the wizard was good with a wand. He was casting an Unforgivable without any incantation. On the other hand, it did very few to reassure him.

As if the temper tantrum had been an ugly blaspheme to the mist, the wizard was engulfed by it. Soon his screams were drowned by it too, under the three bewildered wizard's eyes.

"What … was that?" asked again Susan.

Jobard flipped his head.

"I don't know." Whispered Bael, shaking just as much as Susan, "but I'm not staying here a second more. Even if that could be an illusion the cloud summoned, I'm not taking any chances."

"Yeah, let's leave." Agreed Susan.

Somehow, as she said these words, the mist cleared just a slight bit, remarked Jobard. It was only a short run before the three of the emerged out under the glistening sun and right before Salor. The boy was openly gaping at them, pointing slightly to his right then to them.

"You!" whispered the man, seemingly shocked, "How? Did you use a time-turner? You were just leaving!"

Jobard frowned. What was that boy mumbling about again?

As if on cue, the Minister, some Aurors, Amelia and Rodolphus were walking down toward the small group, a grave air on their faces.

"Ah, I see you're all here. Good." Mumbled Cornelius, "Just about the only good thing today."

Jobard raised an eyebrow. What was happening?

"Between the misfired spell on the tomb and now this!" continued the Minister, aware of the audience but not really caring, "Kingsley!" he shouted. A huge wizard bowed his head to the Minister. "I want all of our forces on finding Pettigrew! And send Dementors if you have to! I won't have an Azkaban convict on the loose a second more!" The Minister was turning red by the second, "Do you realize that?! McKin sent the patronus just a few minutes ago to notify us Pettigrew was already gone from the Island?!"

Jobard stilled. Now, he knew the next days were going to be awful for him. The night-shift was for him, for sure.

"What's wrong?" kindly asked Amelia to her niece, Jobard heard on the side-lines.

The girl spilled everything, obviously, to her aunt. Between two breath, she managed to tell them that they had been attacked in the cloud.

"Who?" barked Amelia, a very angry look I her eyes. She was asking him, the lowly Auror, for more information.

Jobard shrugged. Besides the ugly looking face and teeth, he had nothing to report.

"Whoever that was, he was swallowed by the cloud." Finished Jobard dutifully. His small speech seemed to have drained and revigorated the Minister at the same time.

"HAHA!" he screamed, "I knew there was something in that thing! Dawlish! Go inside with an Auror team to grill the place once more." An Auror left with some grumblings. "Anyway," muttered the Minister, "It's not a good day to bring people in. I want everybody who's not an Auror or from the Decryption Department out. Amelia, Rodolphus, good day as well." Ushered the man with a sweet faux-smile.

Jobard followed his orders then. He was to order everybody out and then go to Azkaban to order Dementors to go and chase the Prisoner of Azkaban.

But something bothered Jobard. He felt he was missing an essential piece to complete the puzzle. He was grasping it, he just knew it. And judging from the furious whispering between the father/son Lestrange duo, it had not escaped them.

* * *

 _It was a time when and where Bael and his father laughed and shared secrets together. He never told anyone, but you can see it on his face. He was happy._

* * *

 **Ok, so the chapter is somewhat long ... the next ones should be around 4,000 thousand words ^^**

 **Anyway, tell me what you've thought of it!**

 **See you tomorrow ^^**


	29. Seeds of mistrust

**Why, if it isn't the chapter of the day :D**

 **Here you go, don't forget to review, follow and favorite at the end ;)**

* * *

 _Chapter 29: Seeds of mistrust_

 _I know I stopped to talk, but I need to confide in. This year's events are disparate at best. Some you will see, I shouldn't have access to. I mean … I should have been hit with an oblivion curse, but seeing as I was back then a spirit of sorts, well … it never happened. So this year is about as much memories from people as you would get. It shaped the most important characters into what they came to be in the war._

* * *

Ron was humming comfortably installed in the sofa back at the Burrow, his home. Summer was in full swing and all his brothers and his sister were in the garden playing Quidditch. He was watching them by the window, but otherwise more occupied. In his hand, he was twirling one of the coin he had grabbed in the Chamber of Secrets. The coin in itself was bugging him. And it was what was stopping from playing correctly. That and he had no envy to be plundered in by his little sister. The bugger was actually very good. But back at the coin. It was a bit bigger than a galleon, with a huge H marked on it.

He had asked his brothers what they thought of it, and out of all his brothers and parents, only Bill had managed to help him out. No. Ron frowned. All he had gathered was that it was not goblin made. Which was surprising since it was in very good condition, had said Bill before getting distracted by some other chores outside.

Ron hummed again his soft tune, thinking about it once more. As he put his thumb over the coin, he could feel the rough edges that proved it was wrought by a wizard hand. But nothing more. He had managed to write to Hermione and Neville about the coin and both had said they had not gotten far either. Neville was far from concerned or curious about it, smirked Ron, not angered by his friend. After all, he would want to forget everything that was related to the Chamber of Secrets. As it stood, he was much too enthused in his new plant now. For his birthday, his parents had bought the boy a new rare plant, and it was all Neville could talk about. And Hermione … was Hermione. She had written some hastily scribbled words about a _micropse?_ – Ron had not understood it – to study the coin more in depths. Something to do with her parents' job.

Ron once again huffed. He was nowhere close to discover anything. The H, he had deduced long ago, meant Hogwarts. Bael had agreed with him, and on the off-times they had written to each other, Bael had said it was interesting to know the Castle had had once a developed money system.

The Weasley creased his brows. Bael. Here was another can of worms. He had expected his friend to be thrown out by the end of the first day, what with all that story from last year. But it absolutely didn't end like he had thought. Instead of the shouts, Bael had written some words about pride. Pride for discovering the Chamber and piercing the secret before anybody else, but also pride for the surprise recovery with the phoenix. Ron pinched his lips. One part of him was happy that his best friend could reconcile with his family, another one was severely throwing a temper tantrum. And what if … what if Bael became – no, not became, _rekindled_ with – a Death eater activist? It certainly didn't match his friend's personality, but Ron also had first-hand seen how Bael reacted to muggles. Unease hidden by glares. If not out-right disgust.

"Oh well, it comes with the package." Whispered Ron, drinking a glass of water to cool down. It was a very hot day, "It's not like he could ever become a real Death eater. He knows way too many muggleborns and squibs." Ron laughed. He had been surprised his friend knew of so many squibs, even more so when he had realized nobody else knew it. His own family was shunning squibs, even if it was unintentional. His mother's cousin was a very short subject of conversation for example.

"Why aren't you playing with your brothers?" came Ms Weasley voice.

Ron started. He had not heard his mother come in.

"Just thinking." He replied.

He knew his mother enough not to react when she asked about Sirius's letters. She definitely was traumatized that he could end up like him.

"So, your father should come back any minute now." Said the matriarch, going over the kitchen.

Ron grunted. He had almost forgotten today was the day his father could take the whole afternoon off.

"Instead of lazying around, do finish your homework." Said the woman.

Ron froze. He had thought about the summer work since he had left the train. Too much to say, or think about.

"Right now." Finished Ms Weasley with a small glare.

Ron complied. It was not like going up in his room to work or to chill would make any difference. He just wanted some peace. Unfortunately, in the Burrow, nothing was calm enough. When one had the disturbing idea to look for a quiet room, one was often disappointed to see the rest of the family shouting blue murder in the garden while playing Quidditch.

Ron sighed with a smile. At least, the house was lively.

* * *

"DAAAD!" screamed Ginny.

Ron woke up. His father had come back. Which also meant, lunch was ready. With a small happy dance, Ron went down the stairs. He greeted his father with a grin and immediately set to the table.

"And, here we can see dear Ronny already at his seat!" teased Fred or George.

Ron made a rude gesture to them before his mother could see him. As always, lunch was a disaster in family. There always was a story, a rumor, circulating in the house. And lunch time was always a good time to get revelations. His mother had long since stopped to make the Auror at the table. If your table manners were good enough, you were off the hook.

"Arthur, dear, tell us how your day went." Mumbled Molly to her husband. She was picking some plates from the kitchen and bringing them over the table. Arthur Weasley was still a very joyous man.

"Well, where to begin? I don't have all the details yet, but I can tell you we are close to discovering some important cure for the werewolves."

Ron made a face. Clearly, werewolves were not that expanded, so why make so much out of it? When he voiced his question, Ron thought he would transform into a small pile of ashes.

"Ron!" His mother warned before his father batted her away.

"It's normal. He doesn't remember. I don't expect him to, he was young." Ron cocked an eyebrow, what was that all about?, "Back when You-Know-Who was in power, many of his Death-Eaters were werewolves. And they purposely went around to bite and infect many wizards. That's why, as of today, around 30% of the wizarding population is werewolf." Ron almost coughed. "Yes, that much. But since it's not an inheritance trait, the number is bound to decrease in a few decades, don't worry."

Ron was still shocked by it. He wondered if Neville knew any werewolves … Bael, he already knew he had encountered Fenrir Greyback several times (only him could say and brag about bitting the werewolf – Merlin, he could imagine the faces of his parents when they had seen the scene).

"And the ruins? I heard they were dated back to a 1000 years." Asked obnoxiously Percy.

Ron and Ginny both rolled their eyes, while Fred and George were making faces to disturb Percy. Arthur ignored it completely. He was happy one of his sons read the Prophet.

"Ah, Perce, it's good you ask," Ron once again rolled his eyes, Percy had asked their father every day about these wretched ruins. It was his dream job to work with the Decryption Department and he had bugged their father almost twice a day, "The Decryption Department is closely working with the Aurors this time. Apparently, the place is not as uninhabited as previously thought. I just heard it in passing. A man was seen in there and-"

Ron tuned out the conversation. He was not interested. He would read the journal once the case would be solved. Or ask a brief story from Hermione. She surely would tell him.

"'s not what's worrying." Finished his father. Ron frowned. He had missed a huge part of the conversation here. He had been absorbed by his dessert too much to care. And from the long faces his brothers and his sister were making, it was not a good news. Trying not to make people notice he had not paid attention, once again, to the conversation, Ron listened, "It's unheard of. The Dementors are absolutely furious that Peter Pettigrew escaped. Right now, the priority is given to the Potters, in case the mad-man would try something. I swear I've never seen James Potter so livid in my entire life."

The joyous atmosphere broke down. Suddenly, only the noise of the animals in the garden were making a noise. Even the cutlery had stopped.

With an exaggerate gesture, Ms Weasley ushered the conversation down another path. Azkaban convict were not pleasant topics.

"Your Hogwarts letters came in this morning!" exclaimed the matriarch.

And as if a switch had been turned on, the buzzing sound of excited whispers rang once again at the Burrow. Words about the new Defense professor, or about the new lessons Ron was about to take were heard around the table.

"Come again? What did you take?" asked George, oddly serious.

"Care for Magical creatures, Divination and Duel." Answered Ron, a bit rushed.

Fred whistled. "3 options. I really didn't take you for the workaholic here."

Amongst the reproach his mother was making (don't put your brother down like that! It's good that he's thinking about his education!), Ron managed to place his sentence.

"I had to. It was 3 compulsory options this year."

"That's weird." Replied one of the twins, "Last year, it was only two. And they made us choose another class too at the end of the term. We took Duel too."

"Actually, the whole school chose Duel." Muttered Percy, "You heard me." He said when his brothers glanced at him, "I think Dumbledore wants it to be as compulsory as Transfiguration or potions. At least, until we all get an OWL. But since I'm taking my NEWTs, I don't have this option."

Ron snorted. He could feel the remorse in his brother's voice. Only him would be sad not to have another elective. Well, he was weird.

"Do you reckon there will be fights?" asked Ginny, excited to hear more stories.

"Ginny!" exclaimed scandalized Molly Weasley under all the other laughers.

* * *

"Are you all ready to go to Diagon Alley?" mumbled Molly Weasley, eyeing each of her sons, and particularly Fred and George. "I don't want any issues there, understood?"

A yes was echoed by the small group. Like each passing year, the Diagon Alley day was a full event. Very heart-wrenching for the parents and very pleasant for the children. It was the only time where they could browse and salivate in front of the new racing brooms. Ron knew he would stay in the Quidditch shop for a long time. And that Ginny would too.

"Hermione and Neville are in Diagon Alley too. Could I spend time with them?" Ron asked before taking the floo powder.

"We'll see." Muttered his mother while his father was sweating.

"Is your other friend … Bael, right? Yes, is Bael coming too?" he asked not very serene.

Ron shrugged. He didn't think so.

"No. He's still in Birma. He said he would be short in time for the train."

"Birma?" repeated his father, pleased to hear he would not encounter the Lestranges and yet bewildered by the destination. Ron nodded.

"Yep. Apparently, they are on cruise on the Irrawady … it's the huge river in the country."

Arthur Weasley simply closed his eyes. As always, the Lestranges were the weirdest family he knew. Birma was known for its dangerous creature, both magical and non-magical. He had heard rumors about the family owning some kind of land full of these creatures, a reserve of sorts, but the patriarch was sure there was some somber secret at work here.

"Well … let's be off then." Replied Ms Weasley, who didn't care one bit about the conversation. She was hell bent on making sure all her children were not off to some more pranks.

And thus went off the Weasley group. They immediately came in the leaky Cauldron, where many wizards and witches were gathered. And amongst them all, Neville and Hermione were waiting too. Ron grinned at the sight and went to join them after he had received his father's permission. Since Neville's parents were here, Ron could even spend the day with them.

"Nev', mate! Hermione!" greeted Ron playfully, "How did your summer go?"

Both of his friends were talking animatedly, but once they heard Ron they stopped and smiled. They, too, rushed to meet Ron in the old pub.

"Ron! We weren't sure you'd come!" breathed out Hermione, "Nev' and I just met!"

"Yeah, we did." Repeated Neville, "And you already know about our summer."

Ron scratched his head. It didn't take long for the three friends to take to Diagon Alley and go shopping. But it did take some time to decide which shop to go into first. In the end Hermione managed to convince the boys to go to the library first and finish by the Quidditch one, with the promess to go by the magical creatures store for Neville.

"I swear, what are you going to do with all of these books?" asked Neville, eyeing the huge pile in his friend's hands. Hermione was barely visible behind it.

"It's for studying purposes." She replied.

Neville clearly saw Ron's green and disgusted face. He too, was positively disgusted at such an idea.

"If you say so …" whispered unconvinced Neville, reading a book titled _Plants and Herbology: An Augury of Times_

"I do." Whipped Hermione, "Ron, are you going to take that?" asked the girl to her other friend who was reading a few lines in a red book.

Ron started and just gave the book to Hermione. He hadn't thought his friend would take that much.

When Hermione left the shop, she was already holding on very heavy bags, Neville and Ron helping her out.

"So, does anyone know who our next defense professor is?" asked Neville, trying to walk straight.

"Nope." Popped Ron, leading the two Gryffindors in the magical creature shop. "Can't say the manual textbook for the year is exciting, though. It spoke about boggarts." Ron shivered. And then he explained what it was for his two unknowing friends, "It's a magical creature taking on the form of your worst fear."

"Does it use Occlumency to know what it is?" asked Neville curious. He had heard his parents say Occlumency was all the related affairs of the mind.

"Dunno." Shrugged Ron, "I'm not an expert in the field. Hey, anyone fancy a grey rat?" he pointed at a fat rat sleeping in a cage.

"No thank you." Muttered Hermione, "I think I'm looking for a cat …" and the girl went to the cat section, leaving momentarily Neville and Ron talking behind.

"Why do you want a rat?" asked Neville, taking a chair to sit on to wait for Hermione, "Bael banned toads and rats in the dorms since he walked on one."

Ron winced at the memory. He could still remember the distraught face of their friend. And his tyranny rule. Both his and Neville's pet had been banished at once.

"Yeah. Wasn't pretty. Perhaps I'll go for an owl."

Neville followed his friend to the owl section. As he was browsing through the birds, the conversation between the two boys came back, full on.

"So, I met Malfoy this summer." Said Neville casually. Ron cocked an eyebrow, "Yeah, the idiot in our year. He was being arrested by a muggle Auror!" laughed Neville, "You should have seen his face, he didn't understand anything."

"No way … he used magic?" wondered Ron, this time stopping in front of a barn owl.

"No idea. I was in a café with my mother and we both were looking at the scene. I can tell you that his aunt is not much better at diffusing the situation than Malfoy is."

"Wait, Bael's mother?" asked Ron, getting an affirmative answer from Neville, "What was she doing in a muggle street?"

"Me knows not." Said Neville, "But I'm telling you, that muggle Auror spent the worst day of his life. He must have thought them loony or something."

Ron snorted. He could imagine the scene unfolding.

"I bet that went well. Can't you have problem with the justice though?" wondered the red-haired teen, "Oh, by the way, I think a screech owl is better than a barn owl. Don't you think?"

"Then why are you staying in front of all these barn owls?" muttered Neville, "And I don't know. You would have to breach the statute of Secrecy … but with both Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange working at the ministry in the DMLE … I smell corruption."

"Do tell me about that." Laughed Ron bitterly.

The two boys laughed some more, imagining Draco Malfoy blocked by a muggle Auror before Hermione caught up with them, an ugly orange cat in her hands.

"I found it!" she grinned at her two friends.

Both Neville and Ron widened their eyes.

"What kind of cat is that?" asked Neville, trying to place it.

"It's a hybrid. Half kneazle, half Persian. The manager said it might be another race though …" said the girl, "And I'm calling him Crookshanks."

Neville smartly didn't offer a reply to Hermione's sentence. She could do whatever she wanted to with a cat. But Neville could bet his most prized plant Bael would egg her on with the cat. And banish it from his dorm. And Ron would help too.

"Have you seen the new racing broom?" diverted Ron as Hermione was paying for her cat and the new treats.

"No." said Neville, "You know I'm not interested in brooms. Only Quidditch. Which reminds me, did you listen to the Chudley Canon's last match?"

"Aww, I know! They were awful." Whined Ron, already absorbed by the up-coming conversation.

The three friends left the store on the Quidditch note before meeting back with their respective parents. Who were talking about Peter Pettigrew. It made sense since pictures of the ugly wizard were placated on every wall of the Alley.

"-rors will catch him." Reassured Arthur Weasley to Hermione's father. Said man was making a weird face, probably because Arthur Weasley had once again talked about muggle devices. "Ah, Ron! Neville, Hermione! Good to see you finished. We have to go, your brothers made a mess and your mother is in fury. Say goodbye before we end up in ashes." Whispered Arthur Weasley to his son discreetly.

Ron sweat-dropped. For once, he hadn't done anything wrong. But he complied, not wanting to be on his mother's bad side. He had a couple of weeks before coming back to Hogwarts and he'd rather not be at odds with his mother.

"See you soon!" saluted Ron to his two friends before disappearing in the fray with his father.

The two ginger-haired man were very much pressed by time, and it made both Hermione and Neville laugh at the sight. At least, they knew where Ron got some of his antics from.

* * *

 _A crow was watching, a three-eyed crow. The same one, I realized, that had been watching over the Alley for eight years now. The same one that would fly to Kingcross station on September 1_ _st_ _and then leave to wherever his nest was._

 _Did they realize it? Did they know? That they were being watched. All of them. No … not yet. That would come soon enough. But it would be too late then._

* * *

 **So, what did you think?**

 **See you tomorrow :)**


	30. Back to the Castle

**Hello guys!**

 **Sorry for the slight delay.**

 **Also, due to my own ... let's say commitments, I won't be able to update every day the story. Actually, I might update every couple days or three days. Promise ;)**

 **Anyway, let's read, review and fav ^^**

* * *

 _Chapter 30: Back to the Castle_

« Remember to think of the station's details once the portkey stops. Your stuffs will be brought by Poena. » lectured Bellatrix Lestrange to her son.

The both of them were standing on a huge porch, under a slowly setting sun.

"I know, I know." Urged Bael, "I still think I'm gonna miss the train. Couldn't Dad take another date portkey?" he whined. His mother smiled.

"Don't be stupid. You know it isn't up to him. Now, hurry before you miss it." Bellatrix pointed to a toothbrush on a table, "And don't forget to write." She said.

Bael rolled his eyes.

"It will take forever. You're staying in Birma for another couple of months." He replied, checking his watch, "Well, 'love you too. I need to go." He exclaimed with a grin.

Just in time, Bael grabbed the toothbrush. He was apparated away a fraction of seconds later, under his mother's smiling eyes.

"Wait, wait wait!" screamed Rodolphus. He was running to the place, a baby in his arms.

Baellarix turned her head to see him.

"You missed him, dear." She snickered.

"You did this on purpose." Glowered Rodolphus, "You've been deliberately spending more time with our son than I am." He pouted.

"Are you really getting jealous over that?" asked the witch with a huge grin.

Rodolphus humphed.

"I wanted to give him a few tips with girls." He answered smugly, "You do know about it, right?"

Bellatrix laughed, using her wand to throw out some darts in the woods.

"Rod', I'm his mother. Of course, I already know all about it. He told me before you were even prodding the subject."

Rodolphus pouted for the rest of the day.

* * *

 _CRACK_

Bael came to his senses after a few seconds. The feeling was very disorientating, and it didn't help that the portkey had apparated him in a corner alley next to the station. Trying not to throw up, the metamorphmagus took out a wool beanie – yes in the middle of summer- to hide his changing hair and try to be discreet.

Passing by the muggles was easy enough, if not weird. As magic refused to circulate through their veins, Bael always saw empty shells walking. It was … disturbing enough that he wanted to walk fast enough away from them. Fortunately, the barrier was right in front of him. And a quick glance at the clock told him he was a minute away from the train's departure.

"No way!" whispered Bael, breaking into a full speed run to the barrier. Muggle were letting him pass with usually surprised expressions, but Bael didn't care for the stares "I can't miss it."

As a good pureblood wizard, with straight Pureblood parents, he had never taken the muggle entrance. So, fairly naturally, Bael was feeling some apprehension about running into a wall. Even if he could see the small seeds of magic telling him where the Hogwarts Express was, he couldn't say he wasn't afraid of simply leaving his imprint in the brick wall.

"There's no time like the present." Whispered Bael.

He went through the barrier with no problem at all. And as his legs couldn't stop, Bael almost blundered into wizarding families.

"Sorry!" screamed Bael, absolutely not apologetic. He was more concerned to see the train leave without him.

With a last effort, Bael jumped in the open doors of the departing train.

"I made it." Breathed out Bael, this time red from having run too much. With a last glance to the dock, Bael clearly made out the amused grin of Sirius. He would never hear the end of it now. He was sure he would receive a letter later in the day.

"Woah, Bael! You alright?"

Bael turned his head to see Susan Bones. The girl had changed very little over the summer – and he would know it, he had seen her for the ruins.

 _Oh come on … give me a break. I don't want to see her._ Thought Bael, hoping his beanie was hiding the slowly blue color of his hair. He just knew they were changing color. Hopefully his eyebrows were not and Susan had not realized it.

"Hey, Susan." Greeted Bael with a dazzling smile. "How was your summer?"

The girl blushed.

"It was good. I spent the end of it at my uncle's home, in Turquia."

"Oh, was it nice? I heard there was some troubles in Ankara within the magical population …" muttered Bael, rising on his feet and walking in the aisle for his friend's compartment - he was happy Poena had already sent his stuff somewhere in the train so he had not to drag a heavy suitcase behind him. Actually, he had kept some stuff in his backpack. Susan was following him.

"You heard about it? I didn't know. Well, it was nothing too serious. Their Aurors managed to control it. There was very few muggles involved in the end." Stuttered the girl. "And you, where did you go?"

Bael gritted his teeth. He wanted to be anywhere but here. Susan was beginning to be … annoying, to be polite.

"Birma." Replied in one word Bael, slowly accelerating his steps. Susan kept up the pace though.

"Oh yes, you're tanned." Smiled the girl, her cheeks still red.

"A very nice tan." Drawled somebody in an half open compartment.

Bael whipped his head toward it and saw it was Draco's. And from the stifled laughs, he must have already talked about his little prank and the sunburn. Which Pansy Parkinson was kindly reminding him. As it was, Slytherins were better than Susan for now.

"Pugginson!" exclaimed Bael, a wide smile on his face, "You didn't tell me enough about your holidays in Rome." and with an exaggerate gesture, he waved goodbye to Susan, "Sorry, I found my stop. It was nice seeing you, though."

Bael closed the compartment with as much ease as he could – which was too quick to be deemed polite. And the five Slytherin's snickers were not helping to calm his nerves.

"Did you keep the emblem?" asked Parkinson with a manic grin.

Bael heaved a sigh. He had to at least give in to Draco. His prank had been funny.

"And you don't know the best of it." Whispered Bael, "Draco finished bald with a nice blue skin."

"What?! No!" screamed Draco, scandalized to be put down in front of his friends, "What are you doing here anyway?" he rudely asked.

Faking to be hurt, Bael was on the verge of answering his cousin when another voice beat him to it.

"Escaping Bones. Which does mean something if you like us better than her."

Bael turned to see the amused grin of Daphné Greengrass. He bowed his head slightly.

"You don't know the beginning of that story."

"She's a Hufflepuff." Squeaked out Parkinson, "of course he would run away from her."

"Don't you worry, your face deters people too." Mumbled Bael, only to be heard by Theodore Nott and Tracey Davies.

"That's mean." Muttered Davies, "You really ought to choose better friends if you can't stop from stopping by our compartment each year."

Bael made a face. The girl was right on one point. He did keep on going in their compartment each year.

"Whatever." Said the metamorphmagus. He took out his wool cap and let his hair fall freely in his eyes, "Draco," the blonde perked up slightly, still sulking, "Mom said you need to ask for the second limb. Don't ask me what it means, I have no idea." Finished Bael, "On this fine note, I am leaving you before your gorillas come back."

Bael saw the five Slytherin roll their eyes and make rude gesture at him, but as always, he grinned and left. It took him a few minutes to find his friends (and he had to blend in with the aisle not to be seen by Susan's friends, just in case) where he realized, they were not alone.

"Who's that?" asked Bael, opening the door a bit faster than intended. His three friends started.

"Hey, mate." Waved Neville.

"Hello to you too." Said Hermione with a smile, "And it's professor R.J Lupin. I's say he's our new DADA prof. And yes he's sleeping, so stop prodding him with your wand. It's rude."

Bael apologetically waved to his female friend. He had not meant to come across as rude. He openned his high collared jacket to breath a bit more freely (it was an obligation for metamorphmagus to wear it when in the muggle world - and he hated it) Ron, him, just grinned at his friend, high-fiving him.

"So, who's the lady friend who made you late?" he asked.

Bael blinked.

"What are you talking about? Nobody, you know that too. I told you I would be short with the portkey."

Ron still grinned, is eyes darting to his left cheek.

"Are you trying to convince me or you?"

Bael still frowned, not understanding.

"No … I told you Susan Bones was trying something, but really … I'm not into her."

Ron waved his hand.

"I know that! But perhaps you met somebody else." He inclined.

"No." replied categorically Bael, "I haven't met anyone." Neville and Hermione burst in laughter at that very moment. "What?" whined Bael, "I feel like you're not telling me something here!"

Hermione pointed his left cheek.

"You have a girl's lipstick mark on your left cheek." She said as Bael slowly turned a nice shade of red. He was erasing the mark with his hand and stuttering some words, "Right," snorted Hermione, "I knew you were a Momma's boy."

Bael became even redder.

"I told you we made up a bit this summer." Managed to squack Bael under his friends laughs.

* * *

The train ride in itself was one of the dullest Bael had come across, or perhaps it was because he usually slept through it. He watched as the landscape passed him by.

"It's raining." Mumbled Bael heavily.

"Yeah." Replied drowsily Ron, "Anyone's got something to say?" he whined, "It's boring."

Bael closed his eyes. He didn't care for the moment.

"So, did you guys thought about," Ron was whispering while eyeing Lupin with a nasty glare, "The coin?"

Bael barely perked up. That coin, the one lodged in his pocket for the moment was the farthest from his thought as one coin could be.

"I asked the paintings back at my grandma's." said Neville, "They said I wasn't supposed to have it. That I could be killed or whatever … something to do with me not being of the Queen's faction."

"The Queen?" repeated Ron, "Which one? There's been, like … 20 generations of Queens. Not that we know more of them."

Neville shrugged.

"No idea. They just kept on repeating that. Some even glared at the coin and demanded me to destroy it." Neville took out his own coin, "But they've always acted weird, so I wouldn't mind them."

"Funny, my paintings said I should know." Muttered Bael, "Well, actually one of them said that and the others sneered."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Why is it that wherever you go, people mock you?" she asked with a smile. Bael shrugged. "Well, I made my own research."

Ron perked up.

"Yes! You said something a microspe …"

Neville and Bael looked at Hermione waiting for the news.

"It's a microscope, Ron. A muggle device to see things better." Explained the witch, "I think Nev' said the first time, that there were some things etched on the coin, that it was not regular."

Neville nodded. He had said that.

"Wasn't it because the coin was dirty?" asked Ron.

"I thought so too, but I wanted to be sure."

"You found something?" asked Bael, eyes red with excitation.

"Yes." Whispered Hermione, "The coin is magical." The three boys dead-panned, "Don't look at me like that. Let me explain. Nev', you were right about the etchings on that coin." Hermione heaved her own coin, "Actually, there are names embed on it. And they disappear from time to time."

"Names?" asked dubiously Ron, "Which ones? Famous ones?"

Hermione pinched her lips and took out a parchment.

"I wrote them all. All in all, there are 34 different names." Said the witch, "Here's the list." She gave the list to Neville – who tried not to show his contempt at the huge list.

The boy examined briefly the list but he didn't know these names at all. If Hermione hadn't found anything, he wouldn't be of any help either. Neville gave the parchment to Ron, who had the very same reaction than him before handing it to Bael. The metamorphmagus frowned.

"You don't know either?" asked Hermione, a bit desperate. She had hoped her friend could bring some answers.

"It's not that." Said Bael, "The names are traditional names of witches and wizards. I wouldn't be surprised if they all belonged to some famous dudes. But no, I don't know them per say … since those are just first names, I assume, I can only tell you, well, for example, that Bosphramus is a famous name for three different wizards."

The three other students blinked.

"I would have to look into dates to make a connection." Bael was frowning now. He had stopped talking to think deeply. "Or … could …"

"Spill, mate." Harassed Ron, "You know something."

Bael pinched his lips to look at his friends.

"These are the names of _some_ of the children of the 2nd generation of the sacred 28." He said, "Which is entirely disturbing because I had to do a brush up on my genealogy this summer."

"You mean, the thing in the ruins you said?"

Bael nodded.

"Yeah. I told you guys, 62 temples, and amongst them all names of both men and women of the 28. And six odd people."

"And the six odd names are on that list?" asked Hermione, absolutely enthralled by the tale.

"Nope." Popped Bael, "You said it yourself, 34 names only. When we're back at Hogwarts, I'll give you the full thing, but I honestly don't want to think about it for now."

"Weren't you attacked in these ruins?" said suddenly Neville, "I heard from my father that the Auror accompanying you reported some odd things."

Bael breathed out.

"Yeah. I still don't know what it was about." Bael was looking outside the window, "It was no illusion like Jobard said it was. The wizard that attacked us … was Peter Pettigrew."

A full on silence permeated the compartment. Bael glanced at the professor who was still sleeping, before speaking again.

"Yeah, you heard me. He was completely unhinged. And for some reason, the first thing he does when he escapes Azkaban is to visit the ruins. I don't know what he was doing here, and mind you, neither does my parents. I've asked them."

"How … did you recognize him?" asked Neville, "I just heard his name."

Bael snorted. And fidgeted.

"Trust me, a face like his … you don't forget easily. He's small, 'got a rat-face and barely talks without stuttering or screaming wildly." He finished with a frown, "You do know he used to visit the manor when the Dark Lord was … around."

"Ah." Whispered Neville.

He had almost forgotten his friend's childhood.

"Weird things always happen to you." Finally said Ron to break the ice-like atmosphere.

A grin broke on Bael's face.

"Only because I chose to make my life interesting."

"Wait, boys …" whispered Hermione, she was not paying attention to the conversation. Instead, she was looking at the window. "Is it me, or the lake is frozen?"

Both Ron and Neville tried to approach the window, but Hermione and Bael were already occupying the seats. But true to Hermione's words, the lake was frozen. And it was pervading to the train, realized the three Gryffindors, when the window began to freeze. The same happened to the glass of water on the table. Actually, Neville realized he was frozen too. He could even see his breath.

Trying to gather his own warmth, Neville curled up in a ball. He saw his three friends do the same, all locked up in their own world.

"The train stopped." Managed to bubble out Hermione through her clenched teeth.

"What's happening?" asked Ron, a look of fear crossing his face.

Nobody answered him, everybody was lost in their own world. Neville thought he was the only one to see the door of the compartment open. With apprehension, Neville prayed for some adult to come and reassure them everything would be fine, but the fat dark shadow cast on the door drained any semblance of hope from the boy's heart.

With a start, Neville even realized he had let his wand down – not that he would have had a good use of the tool. Afraid as he was, he could not even hold his arm straight.

"G … Get … Get out!" rasped forcefully Bael. He too was touched by whatever spell had cursed the group.

But the door inevitably opened on a huge creature. Draped in a black cloak, he was hovering right in front of the students. His putrid hand seemed to literally kill everything it touched, or at least decay it. And for the face, the creature only had a hood, obscuring eyes and mouth, if the creature had one.

"Dementors …" muttered Neville, remembering his parent's talk, "Azkaban wardens."

But he was soon overtaken by the worst memories of his life, reliving them. Neville was brought back to the night of the Great Attack, back to when he had heard his parents shouts, back when he had seen his mother fight against somebody, a witch. It was a witch, with a long curly wand, pointed directly above his head. The scene shifted to allow his grandmother to come and after more shoutings, Neville clearly heard his mother take him and soothe him.

" _Don't worry, everything will be fine."_

" _Who are they?"_

" _Nobody worth it. Sleep tight baby."_

"Neville!"

Neville jolted up. He was being shaken up by a huge hand. Blearily, he opened his eyes to see the professor Lupin standing over him.

"Ah, good. I see you're awake." Said the professor, wand in hand. "Take it." He was handing Neville chocolate, "It's chocolate. It'll make you feel better."

And on these words, the professor disappeared with a few more words. Something to do about checking on others.

Shaking his head, Neville saw his friends staring at him.

"You alright mate?" asked Ron, "You're pale."

Neville didn't point the fact that Ron was pale too.

"What happened?" he mumbled.

"You fainted." Said Bael, eyes boring into his, "Dementors came and swoop you off of your feet, I guess." Finished the boy. He too was munching on some chocolate.

Actually, Neville realized, Hermione and Ron were too.

"Did we all .. ?"

"Faint?" asked Ron, "No."

Neville felt ashamed.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of." Reassured Hermione, "You're by far the one who faced the worst horrors here." Neville didn't miss the glance she sent Bael's way. Said boy was murred in his silence, his hair waving slightly to his humor. "Right Bael."

The metamorphmagus hummed.

"Yeah.", he mumbled.

"Did you … did you relive some memories?" asked finally Neville, still shaken by the ordeal.

The three occupants answered positive to Neville's question. It did few to soothe his aching heart.

"Fortunately, professor Lupin woke up just in time and cursed the Dementors back." Said Hermione uneasily, "He cast some spell and a weird silver light came out. It repelled the creature real fast." She cast a glance once again at Bael.

"What?" snapped Bael, "Say what you want to say, for Merlin's sake." it was as gentle as one could be in this situation.

Hermione blushed slightly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be …" Bael waved her, he was not mad, "It's just … your bracelets. They emitted the same light that Lupin's." finished the girl.

Bael nodded. He grabbed his bracelet and showed them to his friends. One of them was constituted of black wooden pearls, the other one, was of white wooden pearls. They were identical, except for the color.

"They're imbued with my parents patronus charm." Under the interrogated stares, Bael explained, "It's the charm to ward off Dementors. It's supposed to keep them at bay. I've had these things for such a long time, I think the charm wore off. It should have normally stopped them from approaching at all …"

 _Why would they have to give you that?_ Thought Neville, before opting not to ask. He didn't want to know the reason for it. He was sure it wouldn't be one he would like to hear.

"So how long before Hogwarts?" asked Neville.

It was Ron who answered.

"We have 5 hours still."

The stop was a long awaited-one. Even after the train had departed once again, the mood was sour. The atmosphere felt heavy, and none of the Gryffindors saw professor Lupin back. He was gone trying to manage students in tears, thought Neville.

"Hn." Smirked Bael, "I hope he has a reserve of chocolate. Do you realize we're the youngest one here who remember the Attack … what does it tell you for the oldest?"

Neville shuddered. He hadn't thought of it.

"Anyway, back on another subject." Muttered Ron, "Do you know if we can be rejected from an option?"

Neville regarded Ron in a new light.

"You already want to drop off a class before it even starts?" asked Neville.

"No!" ushered Ron, "I ask because I heard almost the whole school chose the Duel option. And I don't think we can all fit."

"The more the merrier, mate." Replied Bael. He had changed in his Hogwarts uniform. Putting his glasses back on his nose, he stared intently at his two male friends. "You should hurry up and change before Hermione comes back. We're almost at Hogwarts."

Amongst the grumbling, Neville had to admit Bael was right on one point. They were arriving at Hogwarts and Hermione was coming back in her Hogwarts uniform. All in all, even leaving the train was calm. Between the frightened first years and the grim faces of the oldest students, the atmosphere was very heavy. Few people were joking around, even if students were trying their best to liven up. The dynamic was a bit broken.

Neville, Ron, Bael and Hermione left the train and followed the trail to the carriages. The Thestrals few could see, were coming to lead the students to the Castle. And in a strange way, it calmed Neville's nerves.

"So … do you have a prank this time?" asked Neville to his two male friends. He ignored Hermione's elbow and the _don't lead them on_

"Dunno. Haven't had the time to really think about it." Said Ron, "I think we could still pull up a nice bubble charm and engulf the whole Hall, but I don't feel like tiring myself for so few. We'll do that later." He finished, asking Bael for some form of agreement.

"Oh, you know … you can never be too sure." Grinned the boy. "I think you guys should watch out for your shampoo if you want to wash your hair tonight or tomorrow morning. I wouldn't advise you to."

Neville sweat-dropped. He knew Bael had cooped up something.

"Thanks for the warning." He mumbled.

Bael bowed.

Soon the carriages had brought the four friends to the castle entrance where students were huddled together in the hope of reaching their table first. As it was a bit crowded, the four friends had to wait a bit.

"Miss Granger, Mr Black and Mr Creevey." Thundered McGonagall's voice over the students, "follow me to my office."

"What's it for?" asked Bael. But the glare he received shut his mouth pronto. He only had the time to gesture to both Ron and Neville they would come back as fast as possible to the table and that they would explain what all that was about.

The teacher didn't tarry long in one place. She had to make Colin almost run to catch up with her – or perhaps to make him stop asking question/pictures. Bael wasn't sure.

It didn't take long to reach the teachers office. And it honestly reminded Bael of nasty detentions where McGonagall had spent hours glaring at him.

"Take a sit." Whipped McGonagall, "I won't take long."

The witch disappeared behind the door of her office, letting the three students alone with their thoughts.

"What do you think it is for?" asked Colin Creevey, a smile playing on his lips. It reminded Bael of Draco when he was younger.

Hermione shrugged. She had no idea either.

Bael decided to take a peek around, to try and decipher some things, but he came empty handed quiet fast. He too, was waiting for their teacher to come back.

She did, eventually. With a box and a scroll in each hand.

"Good. Now, we can proceed. I won't hold it. Next year, the triwizard Tournament will be held."

Bael had wide eyes.

"What? But I thought it was forbidden now … too much deaths …" he whispered.

"Hum, sorry professor. But what it is exactly?" asked Colin. Hermione too was furrowing her brows.

The old teacher explained briefly.

"It is a competition opposing three different schools. A student is chosen from each one of these schools to represent them, and several tasks must be done by these champions to declare a winner." The teacher closed her eyes, "It was decided by the international commission that there would be another edition next year." She observed her three students, "You mustn't tell a soul about this. It must be held a secret for at least next September." The three Gryffindor nodded. "Good, now, the three schools haven't yet been chosen. There needs to be … an advertisement of sorts. The international committee will then decide which schools will partake in the tournament. And the best represented school will even hold the competition."

Bael and Hermione were pinching their lips, obviously waiting for more.

"Our dear headmaster thought it would be more ingenious if students were to present themselves the school. The format is up to you."

Hermione frowned.

"Why us specifically?" she asked.

McGonagall allowed a smile.

"Only students that can't be chosen as champions can present the school and thus, know before-hand of such a competition without spoiling potential participants. And next year, none of you three will be 17 when the chosing will take place." Said the teacher, "And you're not the only ones. Each head of House picked three students for this. Before Christmas, the Headmaster and the teachers will choose the best … add … for the school."

Hermione once again interrupted.

"What form is it supposed to be?"

"Whatever you wish." Replied the witch, "You only have to present the Castle, the inner-workings of the Castle and the houses and classes."

"Does every school add" Bael quoted with his fingers the word add, "has to be done by students?"

"Precisely." Quipped McGonagall, "I do hope you three will do your best to win this."

Colin was the one to speak this time.

"So we have until Chritsmas … It's a bit short, I think."

McGonagall pinched her lips too.

"I am aware. But with last year events, we had no time to think about the tournament."

"Wait," muttered Bael, "That means other schools began to do their presentation since last year?"

"Well, it was officially announced in February." Began the transfiguration teacher, "Which probably means, people were already aware of it by Christmas." She clapped her hand and watched her clock, "Anyway, I await the best of you three." she ignored the bewildered looks of one Hermione Granger of being late in the project in favor to the thoughful face of her prankster student.

The three students were positively excited too. They all smiled at their Head of house, ideas forming in their heads.

"Now, shoo. I need to speak with Miss Granger about her schedule."

Without any ceremonies, the two boys were thrown out of the office. Not that they minded, they were much too eager to share their ideas together.

"So I was thinking about doing something with that camera of yours," said Bael, answering Colin's question, "with a bit of tweaking. Ever heard of a pensieve and the way it allows to _see_ memories?" the boy nodded, "Well, we're going to make one hell of a sequence on that thing." Grinned Bal pointing Colin's camera.

"But that's going to be heavy on the film … and I do have a few idea to present Gryffindor house, but for the others …"

"Don't worry about that. I can literally infiltrate the other houses."

Both boys grinned. They had thought of the same thing.

"That means we can shot some indoor relations …" mumbled Colin in his corner. "Imagine alternating slow-motions with magic duels and just normal speed with Quidditch players …" Colin was salivating.

"Yep." Said Bael, passion expressing itself through his voice, "There is a lot of potential. And we'll have to ask Hermione for the magic touch to make it real. I know she's a bit more advanced than what she tells us." He whispered.

"I'm what?" asked the girl in question, behind the two boys.

"Hermione!" shouted Bael, "We have a great many ideas! Come on Colin, we mustn't be seen, or others will realize we were chosen for the tournament thing. We need to be discreet about it. And avoid being stolen from." He said with a manic smile.

* * *

"So, what did McGonagall want?" asked Neville to both returning friends. They were walking side by side, Colin deep in his thoughts before he was asked by his friends to join.

"Nothing exciting." Lied Bael. Since the transfiguration teacher had told them not to speak about the event, he couldn't tell his friends. Yet. Furtively, Bael glanced around him to see if other students were coming back from their Head of House offices. He was actually sure he had seen Susan Bones. Bael shuddered. Nothing to worry on the Hufflepuff front then. "She wanted to remind me – in more colorful words, mind you – not to pick a fight with the Castle this year. Or she wouldn't allow me Quidditch."

Ron hid a horrified gasp.

"That means the prank …"

Bael grinned.

"Will still go on mate. Don't worry about that."

Neville face-palmed.

"And you, Hermione?" asked the boy.

"McGonagall asked me somethings about my schedule." She said, avoiding Neville's eyes. "Since I chose all subjects and all …"

Neville and Ron almost gaged.

"All of them?! But that's impossible!" surmised Ron, "I've never heard of anyone … Oh, well, if it's you, I guess it can be possible." Finished the boy under Hermione's withering glare. "I'm sorry if I offended you." He gulped.

Hermione rolled her eyes, indulging a smile.

"Anyways, back at you boys. Did something happen while we were gone?" asked Hermione.

Neville frowned, not wanting to speak.

"Malfoy knows I fainted." Mumbled the boy, stealing glances at the Slytherin table. Draco was laughing hard, imitating a fainting person.

"Ignore him." Said Bael, "He taunts you, but you know he doesn't fare much better against Dementors."

Neville didn't bother answering.

"Hey, look at that. It's that Lupin guy." Pointed Ron at the professor table, changing the subject of conversation.

And indeed, Lupin was there, accompanied by another witch nobody knew.

"And who's that?" asked Bael.

"No idea." Answered Ron, "But if you want my piece of mind, I'd say she's McGonagall's relative."

Bael laughed a little bit. It was true the witch was similar to McGonagall, what with the grey hair and strict looking face. She was also tall. The only difference was the clothing. The new (old) witch was all geared up in combat clothes.

"Guys," smiled Hermione, "Be quiet, the Sorting is about to begin."

Neville and Hermione were the only two to follow the Sorting closely. Bael and Ron had decided to have a heart to heart reunion about pranks. And in between their weird idea, they were laughing at some of the poor frightened first-year.

This time around, the ceremony didn't take long, or at least in Neville's mind. The screaming stomach of Ron was telling otherwise, and Bael's closing lids also was proof he was feeling the jet-lag. The Start of Term Feast was still one of the best evenings, thought Neville. It was one of those nights where the food was the best.

"Hum Hum." Dumbledore was standing behind is owl stand, capting the students attention, "Welcome, welcome for another year at Hogwarts. Now, I'd like to say a few words before we begin to tuck in and your thoughts become befuddled by our excellent feast. First, and please welcome our new professor for the Defense against the Dark arts, Mr R. J. Lupin who has kindly consented to fill the post at Hogwarts. Good luck, professor!" thundered the Headmaster. Students were politely clapping in their hands.

"I told you so." Whispered Hermione, "He is the DADA teacher."

The man from the train greeted the students warmly, trying to stay on his chair. His clothes were shabby at best, noted Bael. The students focused back on the Headmaster's speech.

"From this year on, you probably all have noticed the new option, Duel. And since all of you chose to apply for it, let me introduce you to your new teacher, professor A. M. Thaddéus."

The strict witch merely waved, her eyes boring into the students.

"I'm not so sure about Duel, now …" whispered Ron back into Bael's ears. His best friend gulped.

"Longbottom!" came the harsh voice of Malfoy, "Longbottom!"

Neville turned his head to see the grinning Malfoy, his friends already laughing at the next mean joke he would probably tell.

"Shove off." Tiredly said both Ron and Bael, obliging Neville not to listen to the taunts.

"Professor Gob-Plant, our Care for magical creatures for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid."

Laughter erupted from the students when Hagrid stood up and almost took over the table. The poor half giant became slightly red and quickly tried to sit back.

Ron and Neville both clapped with envy, while Hermione and Bael looked at each other with a bit of apprehension.

"Well … I didn't take Care." Muttered Bael, "I already have my father teaching me some things …" he said to cover his cousin's howls from being heard. "I hope he'll do well."

Neville tried to smile at Hagrid, but he knew it came out as a grimace.

"Thanks, mate." He muttered to Bael.

Dumbledore continued speaking.

"Finally, on a more sadder note, at the request of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the Dementors of Azkaban." Whispers began to rise from the tables, all remembering what had happened in the train, "until such a time, Peter Pettigrew is captured. The Dementors will be stationed at every entrance of the grounds. And I mean each one of them." The Headmaster clearly looked at Bael and the Weasley, "Now, whilst I have been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day to day activities … a word of caution: Dementors are vicious creatures, born from the wizard's malice. They will not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who gets in their way. Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you, to give them no reason to harm you." Silence fell over the Great Hall, now, "It is not in the nature of a Dementor to be forgiving. But you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if only one remembers, to turn on the light."

"Waouh, he was inspired tonight." Whispered Bael, "I think he forcefully made everybody want to go back home."

Ron snickered.

"Not a chance." And with these words, Ron went to grab some potatoes.

"What would you do if food wasn't there?" snickered playfully Bael, not eating himself. "I swear you've got a hole instead of a stomach."

"You're one to talk." Replied Ron, "even Hermione says you're no better than me when it comes to table manners."

Bael's smug look was coming back into place.

"Perhaps I was just adjusting to low-lives." He whispered in a sneer-like expression. It made Ron drop his fork, so strong was he shocked. The whole table – more exactly the people in their vicinity – laughed at the banter between the two friends.

"Just finish the pie before it leaves." Intervened Hermione, stifling a laugh herself.

Ron was left muttering in his dark corner for the rest of the evening. It was, then, the time to go back up in the dormitories and finish the summer stories before the next day and the first lessons.


	31. New electives!

_Chapter 31: New electives!_

« Don't make it a habit, Black. » yawned playfully Ron.

He was sitting at the Gryffindor table, eating his breakfast and shoving his best friend aside for some sausage.

"Hey, watch it, weasel." Replied Bael, just as awake as one could be when one spent the night talking. Neville, who was approaching with Hermione the table, wondered how he could still be awake at all. He had checked with his map, there was a 5 hours jet-lag with Birma, normally. And Bael hadn't slept last night.

The banter, as usual, stopped once the plates were full with food and the boys began eating.

 _Much better_ thought Neville, who was not in the mood to hear his two friends lash out playful insults at each other.

"McGonagall should come soon with our schedules." Muttered Neville, eyeing his head of house. She was coming their way, distributing small paper pads to each Gryffindor. "I hope we won't have double potions with Slytherins." Whined the boy, trying to spy on the other houses to see their own schedules.

"Mr Longbottom" warned McGonagall when she finally came towards the small group, "Care, Duel and Divination, is it?" she asked with a small touch of disdain on the last subject. Neville nodded. "Right, so here it is."

She handed Neville his schedule and he took his sweet time to examine it.

"So," began Neville, "we have options first. That means … I have Divination and then Care. You?"

"The same as you, mate." Said Ron, "I chose the same options."

"Yep, you won't see me this morning. I've got Runes and Arithmancy." Groaned Bael, "I really don't want to think." He complained, "I shoulda slept."

"And you Hermione?"

The witch seemed embarrassed.

"Don't worry, I'll see you all." She left promptly whisperings some excuses about fetching books, missing by a few seconds the owl arrival.

"Ah." Blanked Bael, "Too bad, she missed the Prophet delivery."

And the metamorphmagus went to take the journal from the owl's talons and read it.

 _Typical Bael. Not caring a bit about what happens to the others._ Smiled Neville, it was almost endearing.

"Anything new?" asked Ron just before Neville could ask the same question.

A grunt answered the two boys.

"Yes. But I don't think you'd want to hear it." Frowned Bael, his eyes reading the journals at speeds Neville didn't know people could go, "Umbridge and my father passed a new law for the _hybrids_ restrictions," the distaste was clear in Bael's voice, "I think they're trying to abolish the old law obliging the species quotas. It's as old as my Substitution name rule." Explained the metamorphmagus, "anyway, the rule's still up for debate. I hope it won't come to pass."

"Dude, we asked for the interesting bit of news." Replied Ron, bored by the law.

Bael rolled his eyes.

"Fine, fine, Sturby Storage was arrested for being drunk amongst muggles and breach of the statute of secrecy, let's see … still no trace of Peter Pettigrew. Ah ... abnormal weather in Scotland – there could be severe thunderstorms in the days to come, and it should reach the castle in a few weeks" Bael look forlornly outside, missing the sunrays already, "And, the best for the end, the ruins found these summers are finally opened to the public. The prophet says it's just a huge cemetery from the 9th century." Finished Bael, sipping a cup of tea.

"It's going to rain …" repeated Ron.

Neville sweat-dropped. Of all the information, he had only remembered that one. Ron was truly, unbothered by the world.

"Oh and there seems to be an international committee for the next world cup. France is qualified, Bulgaria made it too … and England will face the barriers if they want to take a part in the tournament. Ireland qualified too." Enlightened Bael, turning the sport's page. He was taking his quill out and playing with the small games at the end of the paper, "does somebody want his horoscope, too?" he asked good-naturedly. "Pugginson, perhaps?"

Ron and Neville turned their heads to see the poor girl walking down with her obnoxious friends. She just made a rude gesture at them.

"What does it say?" finally gave in Neville, curious.

"For her?" questioned Bael, "To watch out the hair." He grinned, "Which reminds me, none of you took a shampoo last night?" Ron and Neville negated, "Good. Watch it, you might want to leave before people notice you're one of the few with no hair discoloration."

On these words, Bael left, almost running.

"He didn't." muttered Ron, watching the student's hair changing. "tell me he didn't leave us like that."

Neville dead-panned.

"He did."

Bael was grinning like the Cheshire cat. It felt like his very first pranks, back home. The feeling was exciting. And the cursing he kept hearing in the corridors made him obnoxiously in good humor.

"Bael." Greeted Hermione, "You're early." Said the witch.

She was already siting in the classroom for the Runes. Bael followed suit and sat next to his friend, not caring about the odd looks he was getting from the other students here.

"So, tell me." Began Bael, "Noticed anything?"

The witch smiled at Bael.

"If you're talking about the transfiguration, I just heard a girl cursing. Which reminds me, I've seen your dear cousin with pink hair."

Bael laughed heartily.

"I will see that. He's got Runes too." He said, waiting for the time to pass. "By the way, you wanted that list with the names I got from the ruins, right?"

That caught Hermione's attention. She was gone into her books before Bael had been there, but as soon as he said these words, she became excited.

"Yes. Here's mine. Show me yours." She whispered, "Oh shut up." She smiled before Bael could make a crude joke. Bael complied, "So which ones are the sons and daughters of whom?"

Bael took Hermione's quill – he had forgotten his at the table, "Here, let me show you."

He drew lines quickly, but not fast enough for the professor had already entered the class, a bunch of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins on her heels. Bael and Hermione stopped momentarily.

"Wait, are we the only Gryffindors here?" wondered Bael, a tremor coursing through his spine. He spotted his cousin and pink hair with four Slytherins, all of them glaring at him. "I feel severely undermined."

"Seems like it." Commented Hermione, a smile still tugging on her lips.

Bael groaned and finished his small work on the names.

"Here, keep it." He said as he handed to his friend the parchments.

Hermione merely nodded at him and stuffed the parchments in her bag. She had now slipped into the miss-know-it-all focusing on every word of the teacher.

The professor, named Babbling, had very similar methods of teaching than Flitwick. Outgoing, she had only requested for the textbook – Ancient Runes made Easy – to be opened on the first pages.

"The Ancient Runes have their own code. They serve for the foundation of many wards and spells and are classified, when used well, as the most potent form of magic. In this class, you will use runes with great care and not fire them up and cause an explosion." Exclaimed the professor enthused in her speech, "Runes, you will learn, are another alphabet taken from a fallen civilization who could wield magic like no other wizards before."

Bael frowned. He knew he shouldn't have taken that class. He had to _think_ now.

"-oups and letters for the consonance. Let's start with numbers."

Professor Babbling's voice jolted Bael out of his thoughts. The numbers were the most basic runes one could learn. Based on animals with 0 to 9 … particular characteristic associated to them.

Bael yawned. He had known these ruins since he was a child. His mother had deemed it a necessary tool for him to know the easiest ones. And it didn't help that, as craved for attention as he was back then, he had listened to his mother. Well, at least he had been in her good graces for several months.

"The spider." Answered the metamorphmagus disinterestedly when he was asked which runes meant 8.

"5 points to Gryffindor!" awarded the teacher with an energetic smile. At least she didn't care for attitude. "And who can tell me which rune is the most magical conductive?"

Nobody answered. The teacher had got thinking her whole class. Besides Bael, Hermione squirmed. She too, had no idea about it.

"You know about it?" whispered the girl to Bael.

"I don't have the name of the rune, but, yes I do know about it. Traditional Pureblood families carve the rune in their children's room in hopes of letting accidental magic run more freely." Replied in a dim volume Bael. The boy leaned against Hermione's shoulder to explain more about it. "It looks like a three-headed horned dog."

"That's kind of scary." Muttered Hermione.

"It is." said Bal, "That's why the rune is hidden by whatever the parents want. I discovered the rune in my room when I lit a fire." Under Hermione's stare, Bael wiggled his eyebrows, not ashamed to explain about his bout of accidental magic, "Hey I was cold. And I was a child. With a fascination for fire. Anyway, point is I discovered the rune and I threw a damn ruckus back at home to have it erased. I was so sure back then it would become a monster or something like this …"

"That's cute." Cooed the witch, only to stop when she saw the teacher send a look their way. "Oh, and when you pout, you're not arranging your case."

Bael had the decency to try and make his best poker face. He even pulled out an all-controlled color scheme for his hair, which was rare these last weeks.

"It's the _Mullier catenae._ " Finished the teacher. Bael perked up. That was the name of the constellation … the chained woman. What were they talking about in this class? "She was the only one to control the hound by plunging three pairs of horns in each of its heads." Explained the teacher.

The whole class went rigid and a bit nauseous at the idea. Nobody in their right mind would do that to a creature. Hermione shivered, mumbling some words about crazy wizard myths while writing the story on her parchment.

"Damn right, 'Mione, damn right. We're crazy." Grunted Bael

Hermione and he were finally done with the class. Try as they might, the two were a bit depressed knowing they would have to face a full scroll of runes to translate for the week. And as they were heading for their next lesson, Arithmancy, none of them had the mind to think about the course once more.

"So," began Hermione, turning down some offer by a Hufflepuff student of their year – whatever that had been for, Bael had just glowered his eyes a bit to make the boy scamper faster than his nifflers – "What have you done to the poor Hufflepuffs, now? I couldn't help but notice in class, they were all ushering somethings about you."

Bael shrugged.

"I'm always the talk of the Castle." Bael gagged for good measure.

"Stop it." Moaned Hermione, tired of her friend's antics, "really, stop foaming at the mouth."

"I'm simply showing my unrequited and smoldering anger at the world." Dramatically whimpered the metamorphmagus, "No, for real, I've entered a contest with the ghosts about the oldest speech pattern. So how am I doing?"

"On your first day? And terrible by the way. I can still understand you." asked the witch, not really concerned for the boy. He had a tendency to pull himself in weird situation like that. "When did you find the time to get into stuff like that?" Hermione led the two of them down a staircase.

"At night. You should know me better than that." Replied Bael. "Wait up." He called after the witch when she didn't stop after a corridor.

"Just hurry, Bael. Class is starting soon, and I have this feeling you're purposely asking the Castle to make us late for the course." Breathed down the girl – a feat in itself when she realized Bael was taller than her.

The two Gryffindor hurried their pace to turn up just on time for the elective. All the other students were already sat, glaring at the two late students.

"Sorry." Muttered Hermione.

"The Castle pulled us late." Grinned Bael at the old teacher in front of them.

The teacher – a witch passed her 60 birthday for sure, grinned back. She was as easygoing as Bael was.

"It's no trouble. Don't make it a habit." Indulged the witch, "now, to begin." She clapped in her hand and books went flying in the air in an impressive bot of wandless magic, "My name is professor Vector. In this class, I will teach you the subtle art of Arithmancy, the art of the numbers. Pushed to the right degree, you would be able to create your very own set of spells or wards. You could even couple it with runes, for those of you who are taking that class too. But Arithmancy is much more than just divination through numbers. It is about setting a work frame, bending magic rules to you will, through your own _seals."_ The voice of the professor was thrilling and had entranced everybody. "This is no easy class either. But first! Let's begin with the easiest sort of numbers."

The professor had changed her aura in a mere second. Her whole demeanor had shifted from mysterious to bubbling. With short sentences, she asked of her students to pair up in groups of 3 in order to study the names with the book given. It was, she said, a practice derived from the muggle branch. But it acutely could describe characters.

"I thought you said we would design our own spells." Interrupted a Ravenclaw.

"But you would need much more experience." Smiled professor Vector, "I'll begin on the serious parts later on … with all the formulae and drawings you will have to do just to recreate a simple levitation charm, trust me, it won't be easy. Now, chop chop!"

Bael and Hermione were both too late to act – they had been talking to one another, paying brief attention to the teacher – and thus were reduced to choose between Susan Bones – again her! Screamed internally Bael, trying to avoid eye contact – and Zachary Smith on one part and Daphné Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson on the other.

Bael gulped.

"Ok. I not going anywhere near _Bones_." And before Hermione could protest of being placed with the two Hufflepuffs, Bael hammered, "And see it that way: I'm saving you from two gruesome hours with two Pureblood girls who would like nothing more than to ridicule you."

"But …. Hey, I know they're your friends." Frowned Hermione, "More or less …" she corrected when she saw the withering glare Bael and Pansy Parkinson were exchanging. "Well, good luck."

Bael stuck his tongue out. He was not going to have so much fun here.

"Are you all with your assigned group?" asked professor Vector, "Great, these should last 'till the end of the year." Bael and Pansy almost throttled each other, "Now, do use the books on page 35 to count your numbers. We'll use the Andrean code for this lesson."

"What's the Andrean code?" asked Adrian Pucey, a Slytherin boy, lanky enough to be considered a toothpick by Bael's standards.

"Good. You've been paying attention." Grinned professor Vector, "it's the simplest code that exists. It translates each number in a latin letter. The order is precise too, 1 for A, 2 for B and 26 for Z. You'll see the exceptions on your book page 35." Ushered the teacher, "Now hurry. I'll make a survey at the end of the hour."

Even amongst the general groan, groups began to work together. With some hitches.

"So, for this to work, we need each birthday's dates, birth place and first names." Read Daphné, oblivious to the staring match between her two other fellow students – or choosing not to react to their antics, "that part we can skip, I believe we already know about each other enough." The blonde witch glanced around her, "Perhaps somebody wants to say something else." And before a small argument could erupt, she added, "something useful with no death threats, or reference to beauty."

Her two classmates huffed. They had been looking forward to badmouthing each other.

"Whatever." Mumbled Bael, "The youngest should begin."

"Perfect." Clapped Parkinson, "let's see … Xerxès, date of birth, October 29th, 1977, place of birth, Saint Mongoose." Resumed the girl, not bothering to use Baelfyre for the name, "That's makes you … 95." Counted Parkinson, "And the book says you're the Commander type." Now, at least the three students snorted, "confident, energetic, strong-willed strategic thinker and … charismatic and inspiring." Her voice was hoarse on these words. "but you're also, stubborn, intolerant, impatient, arrogant, with a very poor handling of emotions, and also cold and ruthless." Pansy grinned, "The list goes on and on about your "weaknesses", want to hear it?"

Bael's sour face seemed to highly amuse her.

"That's not me." He grumbled. "You didn't use the other name."

"Fine." Whispered this time Daphné, taking the book out of Pansy's hands. "If you're so hell-bent on _Baelfyre_ , we'll use this one. Your number becomes … 74. That makes you an entrepreneur kind of personality. You're bold, practical, original and perceptive along with direct and sociable." Said Daphné.

Bale grinned.

"Now, that's more like it."

"And for the weaknesses … you're insensitive, impatient, arrogant, risk-prone, unstructured, a bit intolerant, defiant and you may miss the bigger picture." Ended Daphné in a monotone voice, "I think I love this book." She grinned.

Pansy was howling with laughter, clearing her eyes from the moisture gathering slowly. And she was not the only one not laughing. Daphné was too. Bael's scandalized face didn't help either.

"Actually, I think you're a perfect blend of the two types." Laughed Parkinson, "Bar all the qualities."

"And I thought you'd be a troubadour type." Said Daphné, sending in a pile of laughter the two girls once more.

"You have no respect whatsoever for me." Bael glared at the girl. "Let's see if you can do better. So, Pansy, March 18th, 1980, Parkinson's nursery." He mumbled, counting quickly, "So, that makes a 75." Bael flipped the book's pages, reaching the line for qualities and weaknesses, "director kind of type, you're dedicated, direct, honest, loyal, patient and sometimes reliable – you're sure the hat didn't make a mistake in placing you in Slytherin? Sounds like you belong to Hufflepuff." Grinned Bael. Pansy made a rude gesture to him, "And for the weaknesses, oh, the icing on the cake, inflexible, uncomfortable with unconventional situations, judgmental, too focused on social status and people can't read you face because you have difficulty expressing your emotions. It's too disfigured!"

Pansy was red. And seething.

"Give me that book!" she clattered, eyeing Daphné with a dark glare. She had been laughing too at Pansy's descriptions, "Daphné, November 3rd 1979, Greengrass Castle." She counted too, "48." She grimaced when she saw the lines on the book, "The Virtuoso personality," Daphné literally glowed from the attention, "is optimistic, energetic, creative, rational, great in crisis and relaxed. Weaknesses are stubbornness, insensitiveness, you're a very private and reserved person, easily bored, dislikes commitment …" the witch frowned, "that sounds like you." Muttered the witch, glaring at Bael.

"of course. Great personalities for great persons only." He taunted.

"Whatever." Rolled her eyes Pansy, "There's a note on your romantic relationships." Pansy smiled.

"No, don't!" mock-glared Daphné, before rolling her eyes too.

"Complex phases, you alternate between coldness and passion, you usually attempt to change your partner's habits." Mocked Pansy. Bael was outright laughing too, "Don't laugh too, you're no better. Yours is about living your life alone or with _trees_."

Before the conversation could turn vicious, professor Vector came to their table. Her eyes were positively gleaming when she reached them.

"oh, Gryffindor and Slytherin working together … it is so rare these days. So, have you finished reading your characters?" she chuckled when she saw the three glares, "That went fast. Perhaps you already knew about each other …" she glanced at the parchment on their table, "Now stop dilly-dallying and learn the Gaelic formulaes basics. Page 23." She left abruptly.

"Ok, that was just …" uttered Bael eyes averting from the teacher to the book and page 23.

"That's awful." Whispered Daphné, looking at said page 23, "It's not English." She whimpered this time.

The three students gulped, looking at the page with hatred. Fortunately, they were jolted out of their thoughts by a small scream-like sound. It came from Hogwarts park, and only Bael and his table had picked up on the sound.

"I bet you, that was Draco." Said Bael, eyeing the window, "He screams like a girl."

The two Slytherin girl shrugged, looking at the window sill, trying to get to know what was happening.

"He's in Care for Magical Creatures." Said Pansy, "He told us." She explained when she saw Bael's eyes. "I wonder what could get him to scream like that …"

Bael and Daphné snorted. Both knew the boy enough to just know he had picked up a fight with a creature and thus landed him with one of his worst fright of his life.

"I like to think he was adopted." Bael was sitting on his chair, inspecting his nails, "There's no way he could be dumb enough to injure himself on the first day of school. Not with Cissy as his mother."

As it turned out, Draco did insult a hyppogryff, which the creature didn't take kindly to it and decided to maul Draco a bit. Thus, his cousin was sporting a nice sling and making his little martyr.

Bael was currently crying from laughing too much as Ron, Neville and Hermione were explaining to him the whole story. Hunched over the table, he was having trouble breathing, especially when he heard from another student that the nurse had warned Draco not to taunt a magical creature anymore.

"I might just set a niffler on the loose again …" mumbled Bael, "last time he tried to chase Jammy and rammed into a door."

"Jammy?" asked Ron.

"yes, the niffler." Casually said Bael, "But whatever, I think I need to congratulate the idiot on reaching a new level of stupidity. What? What's wrong?" finally asked Bael when he saw his friend's faces.

"Hagrid might get in troubles because of Buckbeak and Malfoy." Croaked Neville, "Malfoy said his father could have Buckbeak beheaded."

Bael frowned. While it was true, Bael knew there would be a conflict interest.

"I don't think so. I mean … my father is trying to make Hogwarts accept more magical creatures in its curriculum and if Lucius tried to kill Buckbeak … that wouldn't end well." He whispered, "And I'm sure, if worst comes to pass, Hagrid could put forward the 1267 law of non-aggression toward any magical creatures that can't speak."

"That's not a given." Replied Hermione, "this law is outdated, and only concerns wizards." She grimaced, "And Hagrid is hardly considered a wizard at all. Perhaps a half-giant at best."

Bael never replied to Hermione, lost in his thoughts as he was.

* * *

 **hmm ... sorry for the wait ^^'**

 **I'll try to keep a stable rythm this time :)**


	32. For another adventure

_Chapter 32: For another adventure ..._

Classes were Hogwarts' highlight. They were the heart of many dissident and a place prone to more wonderment. Mingled with the Castle's ever magical abilities, and you had a recipe for the best place to learn magic in the whole Europe. At least, that's how convinced Hogwarts students were.

"I told you 'mione that Bones is part of the Hufflepuff team for the Triwizard Tournament promotion."

Bael was whispering in his friend's ears, all the while walking to go to the Duel class – which happened to be out in the park, encased with charms to part any rain or thunderbolt in case of bad weather. Ron and Neville were slightly in front of them, talking about exploring the Castle themselves for the night. They had asked Bael and Hermione but the both of them had had to refuse for the rune homework.

"We're not even sure about that. I say you are being paranoid. And why do you want to begin so soon? We don't even have the plan ready …" she mumbled, eyes darting around her discreetly.

"Because Colin will probably have to do most of the subtilities on the picture/memory we're installing. It will take time." Replied Bael in a hushed whisper, "And look at it that way, if we have all the scenes we want before Halloween, it will leave us with 2 months for changing anything we don't like."

Hermione frowned.

"I know. But I hate it when we're going in blind." She gritted her teeth, "And I still don't think infiltrating the common houses is a good idea. People are bound to notice. And placing cameras all over the Castle was not such a good idea. As I said, people are bound to notice it."

Bael shrugged.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take." Bael crouched a bit to avoid a branch hitting him because Ron had let it go. "We should arrive soon at the new class … I wonder how it'll go."

Bael's question was soon answered.

It was both a pleasant and a sore surprise. The class in itself was in a small clearing in the Forbidden Forest. Professor Thadéus was waiting calming for her students to show and pointing to each one a seat. The sore surprise? The class was exclusively made up of Gryffindor and Slytherin. The other sore surprise? Thadéus appointed each seat, with great care to separate friends and make them sit next to people they had never talked to before.

Bael, thus, found himself sitting in between Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. From the sides, he could already hear the jeers.

"I will be perfectly clear. The first one to disobey will be forbidden to come back." Cut in Thadéus, stopping any whisperings in the clearing. She was strict, as her face suggested. "Good. Now, onto Duel. It is not what you might have seen before with your previous … Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." She sneered at the thought of Lockhart. Apparently his reputation preceded him, "Duel, is not about waving your wand around like a buffoon. No, leave it for the sorcerers. Duel, is about making in effect spells, it's about teams and coordination, it is about being careful of your surroundings, not alerting the adversary of your position." Thadéus was walking around them with no sound coming from her steps. "Duel requires people to be quick, in the thinking and in the movement." She continued, eyeing – or glaring, her stare was that intense, "There are many branches of Duel. The most common one _is_ the fighting. The one with the swords and spears, spells embed into them. As I said, it is up to the caster to weave and enchant them through their weapon of choice. Another branch is about nullifying magic." Thadéus stopped to show what she was talking about. In her right hand, her wand had morphed into a huge luminous sword. With a wave of the arm, the sword lashed out an air current that cut out a tree. With another slash against a tree, this time the sword disappeared, nullified by some spell woven in the tree. "As it is now, none of you have the required stamina to uphold these kind of magic. We'll have to build you up first …"

As a whole, the students all looked at the pile of clothes that suddenly appeared.

"These are standard clothing for Duel. As you only have this class this afternoon, I expect all of you to wear them."

Bael groaned as a sack of clothes was emptied on his knees. He glanced distastefully at them. This was so … middle ages.

"Now. I said duel was about coordination and cooperation. We'll make that real right now. I want all of you to form group of three. Your left and right comrades will be your team for the rest of the year."

Bael wanted to disappear in the ground. His partners were Crabbe and Goyle. A suddenly overwhelming head-ache was submerging his brain to take over.

"Gather up, put on the clothes. I want you to show me what you can already do."

Obviously, people were not happy. If there was one thing to dislike, it was changing into clothes that didn't belong to you.

Bael eyed the black boots – lined with the traditional fur that was supposed to hold up the pants inside – with distaste. The whole attire was ridiculous. He couldn't see what he looked like yet, but Crabbe and Goyle were enough to tell him wat he wanted to know. Repressing yet another sigh – at least the two idiots were silent – Bael finished buckling up the plastron on his chest – that covered only the left side, and there Bael thought it was completely idiotic, seeing as his own heart was on the right side of his ribcage. There also were some protections for the arms that made it impractical to move. In short, it was all the unnecessary gear to use when you were in a duel.

Bael looked over his friends. Them too, were looking ridiculous. Most of the gear was ether too big or too constrictive. Bael thanked whatever deity there was to have good sized clothes.

"Partner up, there will be an obstacle course up ahead." Thundered Thadéus when all students finished, "Your goal is to finish it with your whole team untouched."

Bale frowned. If it was a speed contest, he was in for a sore reminder that he was on the loser team. Crabbe and Goyle could hardly use their wand, even less their feet. And, he was right when he saw the professor gliding her hand. She was announcing the departure signal, a chrono up in the air and his team had yet to be ready.

"Hurry!" shouted Ron to his own team, composed of Tracey Davis – the poor girl had boots too big for her feet – and Lavande Brown.

Neville and Hermione didn't fare much better, noticed Bael. Neville was paired up with Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode. Hermione, with Dean and Theodore Nott.

Bael turned his attention back to his team-mates. The two were frowning and running in the forest. Bael was simply choosing to follow them. As slow as they were, he was not risking to lose them. And after a mere five minutes in the forest, Bael could safely say they would finish last.

"I think, there might be obstacles." Remarked Bael sarcastically when he saw paint mark on a bark.

Crabbe snorted and advanced without checking his environment. He immediately received paint on his face.

"What is wrong with you?!" he shouted to Bael, wand drawn.

Bael hurled his hand in the air, protesting.

"It wasn't me, idiot!" he replied, "look around you. The whole forest is littered with booby traps like these. The goal was to avoid them. You, obviously, failed."

Bael didn't see the punch coming to his face. With a sickening crack, his head hurt a tree.

"You didn't …" mumbled Bael, still dazed, not hearing the two Slytherin talk together, " _Deleor"_ he whispered. A jet blue spell left the tip of his wand, expulsing Crabbe in the forest track and triggering a dozen or so of spells. The shot was actually lucky, seeing as Bael had lost his pair of glasses while being punched.

Bael had just enough time to dodge a flying rock. From the side lines, he saw Goyle untouched by the whole action. Crabbe, though, was worse for wear. Cringing slightly, he was pointing his wand at Bael, a dark spell fusing Bael's way.

Bael deflected it. His natural metamorphmagus abilities surfacing when he transfigured the smoke like spell in a huge fire-like whip before making it disappear in thin air, in fear of the forest burning. With a quick slash, he managed to stupefy Crabbe.

"What? Are you going to do the same?" asked Bael to Goyle. The other Slytherin was simply staring at the two of them, mouth agape. "No. Good. Now close your mouth, we need to catch up with the others. We'll levitate Crabbe. Follow me, we'll use the trees, since the trail is full of dubious traps." He mumbled.

It took longer than he thought to hiss Goyle up a tree. The boy was clumsy and not very discreet. Fortunately, Bael managed to ward off the booby traps and bee nest with a simple protego before they could try to sting them. In the end, the obstacle course was no more one. Leaping from branch to branch with the magic help, Bael and Goyle went past three teams before ending on a clearing where Thadéus was waiting for them.

Sliding past Goyle, Bael let Crabbe down on the floor and waited on the floor next to Hermione's team.

Hermione was cocking an eyebrow, gesturing to his face.

"What happened?"

"Crabbe happened." Replied Bael, very sour. "Why none of you are … dirty … from the course?"

"We used the protego spell all three of us. It reinforced the whole thing and made us oblivious to the traps." Explained the witch, none too pleased with her team. "I think that was the whole point of the exercise. You know … team cooperation and coordination."

Bael's mood went from bad to worse. If that was the point of the exercise, then they had completely failed. And Thadéus's glare was enough of a confirmation to Bael to tell him, that yes, it was a complete failure.

"We did it!" This time, it was Ron coming out of the forest, behind him Tracey and Lavande were out of breath, but otherwise unharmed. The ginger head looked at Hermione and Bael with a grin, "Hey, what happened to you, mate? You got a nasty black eye … but it does suit you, you know, name attire and now … face!" he asked genuinely curious.

"Shut up, Ron." Croaked Bael, fixing his glasses now he had the time to.

"I say there was a fight." Laughed Tracey with sparkling eyes, "You're the one who knocked Crabbe out?" and not waiting for an answer, she went to prod the stupefied boy.

Unfortunately for Bael, as all the teams left the forest, there had been no major other altercation. Even Draco's team had made it safely out of the forest. Only Neville and his team had fought against each other.

"I am sorely disappointed." Said Thadéus, looking at the two failed teams, "I said cooperation and coordination."

"It wasn't me!" shouted Neville, "it was Parkinson! She-"

He was cut off by the teacher.

"I don't want to hear it. Both teams will serve detention later on with me." She snapped before passing her congratulations to the other students.

Bael and Neville came back to the common room with sour faces. Thadéus had made them try to repent and lured the into another course obstacles. Somehow, Bael's team had failed once again – this time, Goyle had walked on a wig and triggered a full series of traps. Thadéus had then lashed out about team-mates supposed to look out after each other – while Neville's was let off the hook. Neville had then waited for Bael to finish his own detention before the two could come back up.

"You didn't have to wait for me." Mumbled Bael, nursing a sore foot, where one of the gorillas had walked on. Neville patted his friend's back.

"I know it wasn't easy to get on with Crabbe and Goyle." Whispered soothingly Neville, "there, it's over now."

"No." groaned Bael, "it will be the same thing next week … you heard her. Teams for the year."

Neville simply patted his friend again, happy that his team was not as catastrophic as Bael's. Slowly, the two entered the Common Room. They saw Hermione, busy working on her homework. She pinched her lips when she saw Bael and Neville come back from their detention, clothes dirty.

"So, she finally let you off." She mumbled, "You stink." She then said, this time, words intended for Neville.

"I know." Replied the said boy, "She had us doing another obstacle course. And we had to go through a mud swamp thing."

Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"That sounds disgusting."

"You have no idea." Grunted Bael, "I couldn't feel more defiled than now."

The witch heaved a sigh.

"I'm sure you'll recover. Anyway, if you're looking for Ron, he said he was looking for nev' to begin his nighty exploration." Informed the witch, "So you might want to shower before seeing him. For the sake of other people's nose."

Neville mock glared his friend but he complied none-the-less. He wished he had had the idea to froze the swamp and walk over it like Bael. Oh well. At least he was free now. Bael still had lines to do and homework for runes. He would likely stay up for the whole night.

* * *

"You ok, mate?" Ron's voice reached Neville, just as he was leaving the shower.

"Yeah, don't worry." Muttered Neville, "I'll come down in a few."

A grunt answered Neville. Rolling his eyes playfully, Neville hurried over his friend's sides. It didn't take long for the two friends to leave Gryffindor tower unnoticed by the prefects and scurry through the corridors.

"You have something in mind." Commented Neville, following discreetly behind Ron. He had the Marauder's map in his hands, making sure nobody was around them. Ron only hummed as an answer. "Come on, tell me where we're going." Bugged Neville, "or I'm alerting the adults and leaving before you can move."

Ron laughed a little bit. It was completely nervous.

"yeah. Ok. Sure." He scotched his head, "Remember last year?" Neville's brows creased, he wasn't sure to like the idea suddenly, "When we went in the Chamber of secrets and discovered this huge badass room with weird paintings?"

"The orb room?" asked Neville. It was how Hermione had dubbed it, "Didn't the Castle threw us out?"

Ron shrugged.

"I dunno. But there was the … greasy walls. Greasy walls that Bael made the the tour of. And he said he made the whole Castle's tour. So I say there was something at the end of the room, and we still don't know anything about it."

Neville heaved a sigh. He had seen that one coming from miles away. And yet, he still agreed to go down the Chamber.

"I swear, we're going to be screwed." Cursed Neville.

"Don't jinx us." Replied Ron excitedly, "We're arriving at the bathroom."

The two boys were gone a couple minutes later. The Chamber was open for the two Gryffindors. Slowly, they reached the end of the tunnel, the awful stench assaulting their noses once again. Quickly, the two friends made the tour of the basilisk decaying corpse to the hidden stairs at the feet of Salazar Slytherin's statue.

"I can' believe it's still here." Mumbled Neville, casting a slight lumos in the next tunnel, "I'm telling you, we're going to regret it."

Ron still pushed Neville to go forth.

"We won't stay too long in the room, I promise." He said, "Look, we're almost there."

He was right. Soon enough, the two friends were once again in the room full of paintings.

"Didn't Hermione say it was a war retelling?" asked Neville, this time paying close attention to the walls instead of the floating light protected by dozens of shields in the middle of the room.

"Dunno." Said Ron, "Come, let's go to the other side." He ushered Ron.

As expected, the wall they couldn't see was full of painting too. And a door was ajar, almost to Neville's dismay. He had expected better. Something grander. The door was barely concealed by the paintings – which oddly looked like an old man with a long white beard waving his wand around dozens of small humans (wizards?).

"I don't think we should …" mumbled Neville, noticing the dark light the orb was beginning to emit. He just hoped the Castle's will wouldn't materialize here. Last time, he had been deathly afraid of the apparition.

"Don't worry." Soothed Ron.

He opened the door.

Nothing happened. The door led to another corridor, once lit by ever-burning torches. The ground was paved with odd rocks, different from the one they had been walking on in the other room.

"it's getting hotter, isn't it?" asked Ron, sweat dripping from his nose, "I don't feel too good."

"Yeah." Nodded Neville.

He was right. As the two were grudgingly getting deeper in the tunnel, the heat was becoming unbearable. Just above the normal levels, realized Neville. They still advanced, curious to see the other side.

"Look. More coins." Pointed Ron. He was right. They were embed in the walls. And then, Neville froze. Because, on the walls, they were not just coins. Skeletons were holding the coins.

"Ron?" asked Neville, "We should get back."

But the ginger head showed Neville what he was seeing.

"Look. The end is just there. Don't mind these old things. They did the same in pyramids." He declared, not very serenely. Neville shuddered.

But Neville looked. Out there, the tunnel had stopped and morphed into a huge room, a very deep one. Where the floor seemed to be a hundred feet down. The walls were all littered with the skeletons, all holding one of the coins they had taken before, and all looking down to the middle of the room.

"It's … an arena." Whispered Neville shocked.

Down there, delimited by ten huge pillars with gaelic gravings, an arena was standing.

"Look more closely." Whispered Ron, "There are slots on the walls surrounding this arena. And I bet you, if you put the right case in it, you would unblock something."

"yes. Perhaps. I don't want to find that out." Gritted Neville, "And you saw that scorched mark?" Neville pointed to one of the pillar. "I don't think that's natural. It wouldn't surprise me if there were more beasts than just a basilisk down here."

Ron stiffened.

"You don't think … that egg over there is a basilisk egg?" Neville blanched. Oh please, dear merlin, please, let it be that Ron was wrong. "It should be bigger than that, though." Continued Ron, descending from the tunnel against Neville's will. "Let's see what's there."

Neville couldn't do anything to stop his friend from exploring. As it turned out, besides the gloomy appearance, there was nothing dangerous with the room. No spell triggering all the skeletons or the arena suddenly closing and trapping both Ron and Neville.

"Holy Merlin." Whispered Ron, kneeled in front of the cases, "What could these be for?" he showed Neville the cases. They all had the same form, with a different symbol etched on it. Sometimes, it was a unicorn, sometimes a bull, some other times it was two symbols on the same case. And the supply seemed infinite.

"I don't think we can solve that." Yawned Neville, "Come on, let's go back now. If you want some answers, you'll have to ask Hermione. Or Bael. But I wouldn't advise you that. He could be dumb enough to really trigger a death trap." Mumbled Neville, dragging his willing friend with him. "And stop pouting. We'll come back." Or not. But that, he didn't tell Ron. He was too much of a scaredy cat to put once more his feet inside.

"Whatever." Groaned Ron, "You're no fun. I just wish I could see what's the core of that thing .. you know, the heart."

 _CLANK_

The noise erupted from everywhere it seemed, scaring the two Gryffindors and putting a halt to all discussion. Looking all around them, they didn't see any changes. But still with terrified faces and glances to the skeletons, they hurried back to the tunnel. With a levitation charm, they hissed themselves back to the entrance. With quickened heart beats, the two calmed once they realized the heat calmed down once again.

"We're back to the entrance." Whispered Neville, heaving a sigh when he saw the door still opened. He ran to it, Ron on his heels.

The issue?

They didn't come back to the painting room/orb room anymore.


	33. Incognito rescue

_Chapter 33: Incognito rescue_

Neville and Ron were terrified. To the point, they were almost fainting from shock.

"You and your frigging ideas!" whispered harshly Neville, resentment growing in his heart. He wanted to bolt out of here as fast as possible.

Ron didn't utter a sound. Instead, he took the lead, and grabbed Neville's arm.

"Listen, it wasn't supposed to be like this. Now, if trouble arises, I'll call Bael."

Neville narrowed his eyes.

"Ah yeah? How?" he barked out, bitterly.

Ron simply showed him a parchment.

"Bael's got the same. That way, if I write in it, he receives the same message on his parchment. Now, stop fretting. We'll find a solution.", ignoring Neville's inquiry about having a quill and ink to write.

Neville was still angered. Despite following Ron, he was having one of the worst day of his life, closely following the basilisk night, and the Voldemort night. The only difference was the death-threat. There was absolutely none. For now.

"Ok." Breathed in Ron, "Let's get in. And pray for the Castle to bring us back."

Neville was already working on it, mutterings nice words to the Castle. But nothing was happening.

So they kept on advancing in the room.

Contrary to the orb room, it was not big. It was … actually a cosy room, with enough place for 20 people. The walls were bare, noticed Neville, which was a stark difference to the last rooms.

"Look at the ceiling." Said Ron, "there's another door."

"You and your doors. We're not going through another one." Mumbled Neville, glaring at the last door. He still looked up ahead to see what his friend was talking about. He was, once again, right.

A door-like shape was embed in the ceiling, but there was no reaching it. Odd thing, Neville realized when Ron tried to levitate a rock to open the door, magic was weak. It was withering. And that's how Neville began to panic.

"You heard that?" A muffled voice reached the two boys. "I told you there was something inside!"

The voice seemed excited. The one who answered him, not so much.

"Just leave it be, man. We've been working over this for over a year. There's nothing. Let's go before the Aurors come swooping in."

Neville and Ron both had wide eyes. Where the hell had they landed?

"But … you don't understand! It could be a revolution if we could open the tomb!"

"Just let it go!" answered the man, "hurry, I want to be home before my wife goes to bed."

There was some more shuffling noise before there was no more sounds.

"We're in a tomb." Finally said Neville, breaking the silence, "We're in a tomb." He repeated like a mantra.

Ron, on his part was frowning.

"Mate, mate." He called, "Stop it. And look around you. There are no more skeletons here. So we're not in a tomb, desecrating whatever wizard should have lain here." Neville's head darted side to side to verify Ron's words, "And don't you think it weird that people were here, above, I mean. And that Aurors could come. Like … they're not authorized on Hogwarts grounds."

"because we're not on Hogwarts grounds anymore." Realized Neville, "That's why our prayers to the Castle don't work here" he whispered, "Ron, call Bael. I don't want to disappear like that."

"I already did. He said he's asking the Castle where we last disappeared on his radar. Said something about not wanting to do the same mistake as us and being trapped." He mumbled.

* * *

Bael was not having a great night. First of all, it was the first week, and he was already up at night to finish homework. Translation was really annoying. Anyway, he had seen Hermione retire for the night a precious couple hours ago, leaving the poor metamorphmagus alone with his thoughts and quill. Fortunately, Ron had been there to liven up his night. There, scribbled, were a few interesting lines.

 _We're kinda trapped. Help would be appreciated_.

Bael was frowning. The Castle rarely trapped students at night. It knew when to stop joking. Which led to the next line.

 _We can't do magic here._

And there, Bael had the sinking suspicion his friends had left the Castle without knowing it. If they couldn't do magic, it meant they were surrounding by that special rock thing impairing magic. A shudder went past Bael. Somehow, he knew that it meant bad news. He was in for a long night. The metamorphmagus pinched his lips, hell bent on finding where his friends had landed.

 _We heard we were in a tomb._

Why was it so familiar? No Castle, a tomb and no magic. Huffing, Bael left his desk with his quill. Soon enough, he was also leaving Gryffindor tower by the window. He needed to speak to the castle, and that was not a given. Perhaps, if he could go up to the seventh floor and ask a representation of where his friends were, he could find answers.

He did so and went to the come and go room. With no efforts he slid into it, pieces slowly falling in places.

"Holy Merlin …" whispered Bael, face decomposing, "How in the seven blazes of hell did they ended up down here?" he asked, swearing a lot more in his head. For he was back into the ruins' temples, under a painting depicting a pillar breaking down. And in the middle of it, the tomb rested. Even the book was there. "Are they … inside?" he whispered for himself, plans forming to lodge his friends out. He made the tour of the tomb, remembering the engravings. "Wait a moment … is it moving? Like … the coin." Bael took out his own coin out of his pocket, light filtering through it for better vision.

Still dazed, Bael wrote a few lines to explain it to Ron.

 _Perhaps, there is a place to put in the coin._ Wrote down Bael. The boy frowned. _Wait, if there is, don't. You could land somewhere we don't know._ _I'm going to fetch you, don't move._

Bael rolled his eyes. So much for a good night of sleep.

"Why do I get the most stupid quests?" he mumbled before hurriedly hiding behind curtains. A teacher was coming this way.

Bael stilled, blending with the wall like a chameleon. The teacher, Thadéus, stopped very near Bael, pointing her wand to the wall, before gliding down with a frown on her face.

" _She's more acute than I gave her credit for."_ Thought Bael with a frown. That meant, leaving the Castle by the secret passageway. And then getting in Hogsmeade, taking the floo back to his manor, stealing his father's portkey to the ruins and helping his friends out. Yeah, sounds like a doomed plan.

Bael pinched his lips once again, counted up to 100 to be sure Thadéus was gone and out of ear-shot. When he finished, he discreetly used the window – the ever so nice Castle creating stairs to descend the tower. Once in the park, Bael made quick use of the brooms in the remise. Fortunately, he had landed next to the Quidditch pitch, where players usually left the brooms belonging to the Castle.

"That should be enough to let me out of the grid." Whispered Bael. He cautiously waited some more time, seeing Dementors floating above.

He cursed. The metamorphmagus had forgotten about them, and were it not for his parent's bracelet, he would probably begin to feel the cold seeping into his bones.

"let's go by the black Lake then." He muttered, avoiding completely the monsters.

Eventually, Bael reached Hogsmeade. It took him longer than necessary – in which he had taken some time to read that Neville was beginning to panic, all the while avoiding a nasty looking wizard – but then with a few transfiguration spells, Bael looked like a middle-aged man. Perfect for blending in. As the night was not completely finished yet, the three broomsticks was still opened. Jumping on the occasion, Bael engulfed into the door, only to be met by the good humor of the place. Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the place, was the first to greet him.

"Ah welcome! I suppose you're here to see the Quidditch match between the Tornados and Puddlemere united." She said with a smile, "It hasn't begun yet."

Bael's head darted to the wall where a huge projection of the match was being shown; it was poor quality, compared to his home, noticed Bael absentmindedly.

"No." replied gently Bael, trying to make his voice sound deeper than the teenager he was, "I actually need to use the floo. May I?"

Madam Rosmerta inclined her head and showed him the fireplace and powder.

"Here it is, darling."

She left as soon as she said that, too busy with other customers. Bael couldn't ask for better. Right now, came the hard part. The one where he infiltrated his own home.

"Poena!" called Bael before entering the fireplace, "Are there people home?"

The small house elf had apparated immediately, eyes growing wide at his appearance and the place he was in.

"Young Master should be resting in his bed." Squeaked the house elf, "Hogwarts's bed."

"Just tell me." Whispered Bael, hurry clouding his voice, "I need to know which fireplace to use in order to avoid anybody."

The house elf seemed conflicted, "The Master and Mistress are holding a party with their old Hogwarts comrades." Said the elf, sweat beading on its face, "I is demanded." She left just like that, leaving a bewildered Bael.

"Holy …" he closed his eyes. "That means I'll have to use the farthest fireplace from my father's study." Cracking his fingers, Bael glared at the powder, "here we go. Lestrange Manor, the attic."

Bael disappeared in green flames, with a vaguely sick looking face. He hoped nobody would be in the attic.

Well, nobody was in the attic.

Bael left the fireplace, shrugging all the ashes out of his hair. He hated feeling dirty. With a quick glance, Bael even managed to pinpoint the trap door to leave the place. Opening it, loud music threatened to render him deaf forever.

"What the …" cursed Bael under his breath. The music was assaulting his sensitive ears, used to the silence of the night. "They could have told me they were using _my_ speakers for _their_ shitty party." Groaned Bael, recognizing the sound. "They're mine." He stopped. "And since when did they come back from Birma? They could have told me." he grumbled.

But he didn't tarry long in the corridor. Scampering quickly, weaving through the aisle and avoiding any unwanted person, Bael found himself close to his father's study in no time. Grinning from ear to ear, Bael was satisfied to see nobody was inside either. And since Poena had no access to the study, he had to do this manually.

"Exercising before the real war?" asked a painting behind Bael, with a dep Scottish accent.

The metamorphmagus didn't pay him heed. The painting on the wall was completely bonkers, and that, for générations it was said. He had been in the Queen's army - or so the pinting declared but no one had ever heard about a witch Queen - and went completely senile and paranoid. Huffing, Bael opened the doors of the study with a well-placed spell and scurried to the desk. Reaching into the shelves, Bael used precious seconds to pinpoint the portkey. It was pearl-shaped and … here!

Bael saw the portkey and grabbed it before somebody could get inside. He was just in time, too. Because Bael heard distinctly his parents talking. They were heading to the study.

"-sure it was a good idea to leave Kyla with Rabastan in Birma?" Came his mother's aggravating voice.

"Yes." Snapped Rodolphus's voice, "Who went into the study?" he asked, head going through the door.

"Nobody." Replied Bellatrix, "Hurry now, before Cissy comes pestering me about how Draco made a fool out of himself again."

"That lad is really dumb, isn't he?" sneered Rodolphus, locking the study this time. Bael released a breath he didn't know he was holding in. And he made a mental note to taunt Draco about what his parents thought of him.

"Alright, now, if I remember correctly, the portkey works when I say … the falcon ruins."

Bael disappeared in a flash, obscured by the study dark walls.

He apparated back on the ruin site, the moon high in the night sky. Quickly, he hid behind the first structure, fearing Aurors.

"Now comes the worst thing … come one Bael, remembers which temple had the pillar painting." Bael tried to jog his memory, all the while passing his head in the temples to see if, by any chances, he could miss his friends.

Bael reached the temple he needed fairly easily. The Aurors were not so much on the alert. All waiting for the shift to take over. And since, apparently, there usually was nobody around, all the Aurors were quite lax on the security.

"Well, it's not like I will complain." Muttered Bael, arriving in the right temple with the crumbling pillard. "Oy, you are there?" asked Bael, knocking on the tomb. Muffled voices answered Bael. Good, his friends were down.

Drawing his wand and the coin, Bael cast a quick muffliato and then put the coin on the tomb. It was what was needed, because the thing opened and let him see his two friends, glaring each one at one another. Bael secretly thanked the Castle for telling him how to open the tomb. Really, the room on the seventh florr had its perks. ONe of them being communication with the Castle of course.

"Bael! My hero!" screamed Neville.

"Shut it!" hissed Bael, "we're not alone. Now hurry, we need to make it back to the Castle."

Ron and Neville didn't tarry and scurried along Bael. Just as they left the tomb, the entrance closed once again, as if nothing had happened.

"Ok. Where are we?" finally asked Ron, when Bael led them out.

"The ruins." Explained Bael, "Now, all of you, stay close to me. We're gonna use a portkey back to my Manor. Don't worry, you're actually lucky about that. There's a party going on, so the wards are down for the night."

"Wait, I thought your parents were in Birma." Muttered Neville, "Are you really Bael?"

Bael glared at his friend. He was not in the mood to joke.

"let's go." He hissed.

The three friends apparated back to the study in Lestrange manor.

"Now, not a word. Try to be as inconspicuous as you can. I don't think we'll reach the Castle tonight, but seeing as tomorrow, it's Hogsmeade first visit, we'll make it sound as if we were out the whole day. Ok?"

Ron and Neville nodded.

"Now, we'll go back to the attic. Do not touch anything. I don't want something happening. Once you reach the north aisle, clap your hands twice and the attic trap door should open and close behind you. The fireplace is there with floo powder. You know the rest. If, for some reasons, you find yourself in the dungeons, don't forget this is an old manor. If you quirk the emblem's spear on a 43° angle to the right, you'll have a passageway out of the manor." Explained Bael, stating a few more way to get out of the Manor in case his friends were to run in troubles.

The plan was too good to be true, though. As Ron, Neville and Bael were leaving the office, crouched down so people couldn't see them, Bael began to feel apprehension. The fact that the painting had not piped up at him when he had left the study left a sour taste in Bael's mind. He knew shit would hit the fan pretty quickly.

"Alright, we're back to the aisle." Muttered Bael through the dimly lit walls of the manor. Not that he was heard by his friends, as the music was still blaring. The metamorphmagus clapped his hands, waiting for the trap door to fall down. "Come on." Gestured Bael to his friends, "I don't want to be caught."

His two friends didn't want it either. They hurried along and quickly used the fireplace without ceremonies, not mindind the light sounds in the attic. But Bael did. With dawning fear coursing through his veins, Bael turned his head towards the sound, curiously.

" _Lumos_ "

He opened his mouth in shock. Before closing it immediately, along with his eyes and his wand. The flash his wand did hid the green flames of his friends floo-ing away.

"Seriously Aunty!" he squeaked, very much red.

"Holy merlin! What are you doing here?!" she screamed, frantically looking for her wand.

Bael tried to flee in the fireplace but he was tied up by his Aunt's spell before he managed to succeed. Opening his eyes, he did not blush too much when he saw his Aunt once more. Even if this time, his Aunt was fully clothed.

"hum, hey. Where's uncle Lucius?" asked Bael innocently enough. He was actually mortified by what he had just witnessed. He actually saw the blonde hair of the man leaving the attic.

"Do. Not." She hissed through clenched teeth, red as a tomato. Her eyes were throwing lightning bolts.

Bael gulped. He was screwed.

* * *

"I'm telling you, somebody was in my office." Whined Rodolphus to his wife.

The two of the were resting in their bedroom. Or more exactly, Rodolphus was trying not to sleep on the bed while his wife was in the bathroom, finishing her shower.

"Stop whining." Snapped the beautiful witch, "Ask that wretched elf if you want to be sure."

Rodolphus perked up. That was a good idea. So Rodolphus asked for his house elf to come up. And when she was faced with her master, the poor creature seemed to be guilty.

"Who went into my office?" calmly asked Rodolphus, although his nose was flaring up, sign of extreme anger. The tiny house elf croaked out some unintelligible words. "Speak up!" urged Rodolphus, not in the mood for the house-elf quivering self-esteem. It was still better than Dobby's.

"The young master is home." Said the creature, "He goes to your office and comes back. Poena can feels him with mistress's sister."

Rodolphus cocked an eyebrow. But he was beaten by Bellatrix.

"Xerxès is home?" her head was out of the bathroom, suspicious looking eyes boring into the poor house elf, who tried to make herself smaller than she already was. Poena nodded as Bellatrix frowned, "What is that brat up to, again? I swear he's gonna kill himself with his stunts." She muttered coming back into the bathroom, not caring much more for the story.

But Rodolphus was not satisfied. His son was supposed to sleep at Hogwarts, in his bed. Especially at this hour. The fact that he was out – _and that he had managed to go past the Dementors_ – and sneaking around was not tolerable. Grunting, Rodolphus woke up. Sleep began to wear off, which was fine, he still had guests in his Manor, he went out to see where his troublesome son could be.

And he didn't have to search for long.

After a few minutes of walk down the corridor, Rodolphus met his brother in law smoothing down his hair. He seemed peeved about some event.

"Rodolphus." Greeted the man with an edge to his voice, "You might want to go look into the attic."

"No thank you." Muttered the man, "I know what you and Cissy have been up to."

Lucius had the decency to blush.

"It's not that." He said after clearing his voice, "Your son was there."

Rodolphus actually hesitated between letting his son face Narcissa, laughing at the scene – no, he could let that for his wife, because, she, for sure, would laugh at it and mock all the party involved – or rushing to shout at his son, too. In hindsight, he could also drink some more and see how the night would evolve. Yes, he could do that.

"Tell me, Lucius, fancy a drink?"

The man turned to look at Rodolphus with a frown.

"No thank you. I'm supposed to meet with Draco tomorrow for the Hogsmeade visit." He quickly changed his plans when he saw Rodolphus was not listening whatsoever, "Just one glass." He mumbled.

"Sure." Laughed the huge man, "Just one glass. While you're at it, help me not drown my son in the pool, would you."

* * *

Bael and Narcissa were currently having a stare down. And then Narcissa had lifted him with her wand. She was now scurrying across the corridors, her nephew levitated in the air, unable to move. Narcissa only let him down when people began to be in sight.

"Ha, Cissy!"

A woman was there, laughing with two men at her sides.

"Sariah." Greeted Narcissa, "Meet my nephew. Xerxès, here's Sariah."

Bael stared dumbly at the witch. He simply shrugged and offered his best smile. And it was just now that Bael realized he was still in his pajama's. With a travelling cloak around his shoulders. In other words, he looked positively ridiculous, especially since every adult here was dressed up.

"Oh, I thought he was supposed to be at Hogwarts. But I must be mistaken. So, now that you've finished Hogwarts, what career interests you?" asked the witch with the fakest smile Bael had ever seen.

"Oh, no." answered Narcissa in Bael's place, "he's supposed to be at Hogwarts. In 3rd year."

Sariah looked at Bael once more, this time noting the pajama's and the cloak.

"Oh … isn't he a bit big?" she asked putting her hand over Bael's head – which was about her height.

Bael twitched. He just wanted this humiliating moment to be over. Unfortunately, his discontentment must have shown, since the wizards in front of him started.

"A metamorphmagus!" exclaimed a bearded man, "I thought they were going extinct!"

Bael managed not to throttle the man where he stood. Or perhaps it was because his Aunt had sensed the danger, and had stupefied him. Nonetheless, Bael didn't move an inch. He was soon rewarded by his mother appearance, all peachy going from the glass in her hand and slight slur.

"Xer!" she hugged her son, taking him out of Narcissa's arms and completely ignoring the other adults, "by the way, Cissy, go to your husband before he spills what happens in the attic on your drunken nights." Narcissa seemed actually mortified, "He accepted a drinking game with Rodolphus, and you know how dear Lucius holds his liquor." Mumbled Bellatrix as an explanation, a smirk playing on her lips. Oh, she was definitely guilty for Lucius's state, idly thought Bael.

Once Narcissa was gone with her friend, Bellatrix turned to her son.

"Now, spill what happened, and I might decide not to act upon you being out of Hogwarts." She gushed, planting a glass in Bael's hands. "Go on. It's Whiskey Neat."

Bael glared at his mother. What was she thinking?

"that's not very responsible, is it?" he managed to ask, going for the sensible act. His mother snorted.

"Because you stealing whatever you needed in your father office was clever."

Bael shut up.

"So, I saw Cissy and Lucius together in the attic." Spilled Bael with a pout. "With a chicken."

 _This is how Baelfyre Black swore to himself to learn how to Apparate as soon as possible. And it probably saved his life on more than one occasion. That boy … was resourceful, but very dim sometimes._


	34. Coming back to Hogwarts

_Chapter 34: Coming back to Hogwarts_

« Where were you? »

Hermione was sitting in her seat in the Gryffindor Common Room, eyeing her two male friends. It was Saturday morning, and way too early for Hermione's taste to be running after her friends.

"And where's the other idiot?"

Hermione was angry. No, she was seething. Here she was waking up, surprised not to see Bael hunched over his desk, where his stuff was still smoking – yes smoking, but that was Bael for you. And then, sometimes later, when coming down to take her breakfast, there was no sign of her friends. And when, finally she came back up again to the Gryffindor tower to grab her bag for the Hogsmeade visit, Ron and Neville had decided to make an appearance. And the two seemed green. Oh, and they stunk, a smell she could remember sniffing last year, in the Chamber of Secrets.

Naturally, her two friends explained the whole story to her. And she was dumbstruck.

"Wait, wait, wait." Mumbled the girl, after her two friends showered for the sake of her sensory smell, "You're saying that behind the orb room, there is another room, full of gloomy skeletons holding coins – the same ones we took up in the Chamber of Secrets – and glaring down at an arena, where there are slots-"

"37." Pipped up Ron, 'There are 37 slots."

Hermione glared at Ron. She wondered if he had not a few lose screw in his heads.

"37 slots to be filled with weird cases that have etched symbols on it. Oh and whatever tunnel led you to that room moved and trapped you in a tomb, lost in the recently discovered ruins. Where, Bael had the brilliant idea to save you by smuggling into his father's office the portkey to the ruins, and then bring you back to Hogsmead by the fire-place. But he got caught and never came back and you spent the night out. Am I right?" asked the girl.

Both boys were looking at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in their lives.

"You …" began Hermione, heaving a sigh, "realize how lucky you were, right?" The two boys nodded, "Ok. So you won't do it again?" Again the two boys nodded, " _idiots_!" Hermione simply hissed the word. But she never brought the subject ever again.

"but Bael …" muttered Neville, "he got into troubles for us."

Hermione frowned.

"I wouldn't worry about him. If he was caught in his family's Manor, I don't fear for his life. Actually, I bet you we'll find him at Hogsmeade, definitely with his parents." Said the witch, "come on, now. Just go to sleep, you two look awful. Or go back to Hogsmeade to retrieve Bael."

The two boys mumbled some words before leaving the girl alone with her thoughts. None of them noticed the shadow creeping up behind a sofa.

"Well, with that, I need to go to the library for these names." whispered the witch to herself, ignoring every other Gryffindor student.

* * *

"Hogsmeade is now opened to the students." Mumbled a tired looking Filch at a group of skittish third years. Behind him, a sore looking professor Snape was glaring down. "You brats are to go past my detector so that I don't find dubious objects." Grunted the squib, all the while nastily glancing at Ron and Neville. He was probably wondering where Bael was. Well, so were they.

"You reckon he will pull through?" asked Neville, slightly uncertain, watching a smug Draco Malfoy with a cast parading a few feet away from them.

Ron shrugged.

"If there's somebody that can escape vicious people like his family, it's Bael. Don't fret too much over him …"

Neville got the distinct impression Ron was the worry-wart here.

"line up!" shouted Filch, holding a huge object in his hand. It was emitting a green light from time to time. And the squib was prodding the students with it.

"It's just a dumb thing." Muttered angrily Ron after having waited a good 40 minutes. Unfortunately for him, he got prodded by Filch twice as much for that comment, leaving a very angry looking Ron.

Neville led his friend as far away as possible from troubles from then on. No need to go look for Malfoy. Instead they went to Zonko for sweets.

"So, which are you gonna take?" idly wondered Ron, eyeing sugar quills with glowing eyes.

Neville shrugged.

"No idea."

He ended up buying a whole lot more than what he intended. And he blamed Ron for that. As the two friends were leaving the shop and settled down on an alley to eat their sweets – after all, it was the last days of summer, so why not abuse the good weather a tad more – they saw Bael and his parents a few paces away. Trying to act as innocent as possible, the two friends curled up.

"I think I owe you a galleon." Muttered Neville when he saw Bael's sour face.

Actually, the whole Lestrange family seemed irked by one another. Which meant drama was up in the air once more. Following their line of sight, both Gryffindors saw they were looking down on some poor wizard.

"Who do you think they are traumatizing?" wondered Ron. "No, wait. I think I've seen the lad before."

"Podmore."

The voice startled the two boys. Turning fast on their feet, they were faced with Nymphadora Tonks. She was sporting a huge grin as she waved at them.

"Wotchers guys." She said, "That dude aver there, is Podmore. Heard from Mom he tried to steal from the Lestrange vault a few month ago."

"is it even possible to steal from them?" rhetorically asked Neville.

The metamorphmagus didn't answer. Instead she sent a shit-eating grin toward Bael.

Bael did seem surprised. In hindsight, it was probably not a good idea to wave to the Lestrange. Neville was acutely aware of their status to the fanatic family. Something he got reminded quickly. Bellatrix Lestrange did a strange jab with her wand and suddenly the three were gone.

"Well." Began Ron, "I didn't think you would scare them that much." Laughed the red-haired wizard.

Tonks' smile dimmed.

"I always wondered what they looked like." She finally said. Ron almost coughed, "According to mom and Bael, Bellatrix and Mom are look-alikes. Which, now, I gather is true."

"Wait, if you never met her before, how come she recognized you?" asked Ron.

Tonks frowned.

"Secrets over secrets. I don't know. They always had a way of knowing things they shouldn't."

Tonks left when some of her friends shouted at her to come with them.

"So much for a not so gloomy atmosphere." Grunted Neville. "I feel even more down than before."

* * *

But the days blurred quiet easily. Ron and Neville found out on the first week of October, Hermione and Bael sneaking out of the common room, gushing quietly.

"Hey!" shouted Ron, oblivious to his two friends trying to be discreet, "What are you two doing?"

The two Gryffindors, seen by the whole common room both blushed vividly and left as quickly as possible.

"What was that about?" wondered aloud Ron, while Neville bashed his head against a wall. Besides them Lavande Brown was fussing, eyes gleaming with new-found gossip to tell the whole Castle.

"Well, that was short." Breathed Hermione, relieved not to see Ron behind her. "Where are we supposed to meet with Colin?" she asked Bael.

The said boy was trailing behind her, a frown marring his face.

"He said he would meet us downstairs, by the statue of Barnabeus.", he pointed with his wand a corridor on their left. "It should be this way."

Hermione followed her friend diligently.

"So, we do have enough film, right? For the Triwizard thing."

Bael hummed.

"Because I was thinking of tweaking the settings and motions with the _magui_ spell and"

Bael let Hermione speak about it however she wanted. In a sense, she was the director of the whole thing. He, himself, just had to make a memory of sorts of the whole film. Which would be easy enough with the come and go room.

"Black!"

Both Bael and Hermione started at the voice.

"Professor Snape." Greeted Bael, more curious as to why the professor would be down the corridor and chasing after him. On second thought, the teacher looked positively livid.

"Out with it now!" snarled the potion master, "Of all the things I thought you could be, a common street thief was not one of them. Congratulations on making it to the list of most undesirable of the Infirmary!" barked the teacher, "That will be 50 points from Gryffindor, along with detention. And if you give back the potions you stole, I might very well lessen the detention span."

In the corner of his eyesight, Bael saw a scandalized Hermione looking at him disapprovingly. With a rather pained expression, Bael went to speak up.

"But professor …" croaked out Bael, considering carefully his next words under the withering glare of Severus Snape, "I don't know what you're talking about." He dimly finished his sentence. But then, Bael was approximatively sure he had enraged the potion teacher even more.

"Liar!" he snarled, "Follow me right now, Black. You're going to the Headmaster office this instant. This transgression won't be overlooked this time."

Bael was suspicious. Now, the teacher had even seemed gleeful when talking about the Headmaster. What was he accused of? Shrugging – because it was definitely not the first time he was being accused of some gruesome work, Bael followed his teacher all the while gesturing at Hermione to continue her path without him. She wouldn't need him either way. He only needed to add some tidbits here and there anyway. Colin would do the rest. He ought to collect some of the cameras though.

Following after Snape, Bael didn't listen to the teacher, and thus was surprised when he came to a halt in front of Ms Pomfresh – and not Dumbledore. Clearing his throat, Bael saw the dejected look on the nurse face.

"Now's not the time, Severus." She harshly said, "let the boy go. He had absolutely nothing to do with this."

"The magic drain says otherwise." Muttered the potion teacher, "Only he would have the help of the Castle in stealing resourceful potions."

Bael piped up.

"Which potions?" he squeaked. He really shouldn't have. Both adults glared at him. "Alright. Can I go then?"

Bael was sure Snape was about to blow a fuse when Ms Pomfresh said he could go. That said, he didn't stay too long to find out about that occurrence. He had no envy to end up stuck up on a wall. Unfortunately for him, the time needed for him to join Hermione and Colin was far longer than the time he had before his next lesson.

"Oh, bugger." Muttered Bael, "Well, let's go to the DADA classroom then."

Bael didn't like the DADA teacher. It was not because he wasn't a fair teacher, or even a good one – because in all honesty, he was. No, it was the way professor Lupin was friends with people his own family had sworn off. It made him uneasy. Also, that silly teacher wanted to teach them about real boggarts and all. And Bael didn't fancy his biggest fear broadcasted to the whole classroom. At all.

Heaving a sigh, Bael still went to DADA. He had already not come to half of the lessons, he couldn't not go anymore. Pushing the door slightly ajar, Bael was not surprised to see he was the only one there. Along with the professor.

"Ah, Mr Black. I'm pleased to see you here today." Kindly smiled the Lupin. With his shabby robes, he looked like a hobo. Bael wisely didn't say it out-loud. His insistent eyes might have given him away though. "I heard from professor Thaddéus you were having some troubles in Duel."

Bael's never faltering smile dimmed. Ha. Duel. A can of worms he'd rather not open today. To say he was having troubles was an oxymoron. He was positively sucking at Duel. His last lesson had ended up with him trying to fix his wand grip – because according to the teacher, it was a barbarian's grip. Bael had scowled. And perhaps it was his fault if he had sent some jinxes at Crabbe and Goyle, but really, he had come to have the patience of a saint with these two goons.

"Ah, you heard about that." Mumbled the metamorphmagus, shifting slightly his hair color. "Yes"

Upon his non-elabored answer, Lupin cocked an eyebrow.

"You do have potential. You just need to trust your partners more if you want to make your team succeed in your assignments."

Bael tried not to snort at the mere idea of trusting Crabbe and Goyle. That would never happen. He was pretty much certain of it.

As if sensing his thoughts, Lupin quirked a smile.

"Granted, it might be a bit complicated with your partners, but I'm sure you could come up with some ingenius way to fight it. On another matter, since your professor will soon start all of you in materializing weapons, you will have to focus more. Your metamorphmagus abilities won't help you, I'm afraid."

Bael frowned. He had heard Thaddéus briefly mention this at the last lesson, but he had not paid her any heed. From his point of view – and even if his friends found the teacher awesome, she was just an annoying witch.

"Why?" muttered Bael, taking a seat in the far-back of the class.

Lupin had no time to answer, though. The rest of the class was coming in. Soon enough, Bael did find Ron and Neville, along with Hermione.

"What was that all about?" gushed the witch. She was straight-forward. That much, Bael would admit.

"No idea." Answered Bael, and for once, he really meant it. "Snape seemed wholly convinced I had a hand in the stealing of some obscure potions in the Infirmary." He explained to his two friends.

Before the two males could so much as say a word, Lupin's voice took over.

"Alright class." He acknowledged, "Today, we will learn about boggarts. You all need to know that boggarts are creatures that like to scare. They live off of our own fears. Once in front of you, they will turn into your greatest fear. The spell, to thwart them is _Riddikulus_. Repeat after me … _Riddikulus_."

Bael felt more than heard his cousin make fun of the teacher. He was unabashed to see he actually laughed along with the Slytherins, earning him a jab from his friends. He rolled his eyes. It was just a spell.

"Come on. All of you, in line." Instructed Lupin, "Now, who would like to begin? No one? Fine, Mr Longbottom!" called out Lupin, with gleaming eyes, "yes, forward."

Ron and Bael both exchanged an amused glance at their shaking friend. He was in for a ride.

"Remember that the more a boggart is confused, the more you will have time to trap him once again. See that armor?" asked the teacher to Neville, "That's where the boggart is."

As if on cue, the armor shook.

"And it's trying to escape." Smile Lupin. "Now, tell me. What is your worse fear?"

If possible, Neville began to shake.

"Sna … Snape." Whispered Neville. He frowned. "Or Dementors." He added.

Lupin nodded.

"Okay, try now, to picture both the Dementor and professor Snape in funny situations."

Neville looked at him as if h had grown a second head. Which he might as well had. Lupin grinned.

"For say, try to picture professor Snape in your grandmother's clothes. Picture it." He said gently. Neville's smile grew some bit. It still looked like a grimace though.

"And if it's a Dementor?" he asked the professor.

"Ah. The key is creativity. Try some goo, or smoke. I believe one of your friends did experiment with that a few days ago."

Ron turned red.

"How did he know about that?" he whined, self-conscious about his hair.

"You were hardly discreet." Muttered playfully Hermione.

The session was in full swing. Without warning, Lupin had opened the armor and out of it a fog like creature escaped. Once it was in front of Neville, it quickly took the shape of professor Snape.

" _Riddikulus."_ Muttered Neville.

The spell didn't work. So he tried once again. More forcefully. And then did he obtain results. The whole class laughed at the face of boggart-Snape and his emerald dress, red hand-made bag and eagle hat.

"Yes!" shouted Lupin, "On to the next person!"

And so went the students. The boggart went from Snape, to skeleton, to a ghost, to a spider and so on and so forth. When came Bael's turn – unfortunately, Hermione had pushed him so he wouldn't try to escape without having a go – the boggart turned into a gigantic snake.

"Ah."

That was the only reaction it elicited from Bael. Even if he was terrorized, years of living with his family had taught him not to show any trembling movements. With a perfectly dignified bow, Bael glared at the snake's fangs and turned it into Berty's beans. Apparently, even Boggarts were sensible to the horrid flavor of vomit.

"A snake? Really?" smirked a Slytherin next to Bael's ear. The metamorphmagus was not surprised to see Parkinson next to him.

"That's rich coming from you. Mind telling me why mirrors are your worst fear?" sneered Bael, "Perhaps it is because you see your reflection in it. Don't you worry, I would be scarred if I were you too." Muttered the boy evenly.

Instead of replying with anger, the witch smiled meanly.

"Sure. If you say so." Her smug face told Bael all he needed to know. He would never hear the end of it. "Don't you find it funny that you were placed in Gryffindor because you were afraid of snakes? With how you act, you should have been a Slytherin ..."

Bael ignored her.

Fortunately, Bael's day got better. In the face of Oliver Woods.

"Quidditch try-outs are tonight!" he hollered in the common room to a very calm assembly. The soothing fire in the middle of the room crackled some more – curtsey of the Castle – before landing some sparks on unsuspecting first years.

As if a dam had been broken, a sudden noise conquered the common room. With renewed vigor, almost half the students left for their bedrooms and Quidditch equipment. Tonight, was a night of glory.

"Are you going?" asked a bored Hermione, head in several parchments.

Bael spared her a quick glance.

"Well, yeah. I want to be part of the team this year." He answered with passion. "I might as well go all out. I heard Draco asked his father for some better brooms." He frowned, "it took me some heavy blackmail last year to stop him from actually buying the whole team brooms." He muttered, "I don't think I can do it this year. I mean, I do have some tidbits about chickens, and shaves …"

Neville did a double take.

"is that normal for a family to trade blows by blackmail?"

Bael shrugged.

"You know, for as long as I can remember, uncle Lucius and I have always worked like that."

Neville shuddered. Honestly, what kind of childhood Bael had had?

"Well, you'd better get going then." Piped Ron, "We won't be able to come though." Added the ginger haired student, "McGonagall gave us detentions." Gestured Ron to both he and Neville. "For some corridor-goo experiment." he explained for Hermione's sake. The witch rolled her eyes. "Good luck mate."

He high-fived Bael and watched him leave with a broom under his arms.

"Is he going to be alright?" dramatically asked Ron, with a false tear running down his cheek.

Hermione rolled her eyes once again.


	35. Of Quidditch, clouds and codes

_Chapter 35: Of Quidditch, clouds and codes_

"Oliver!" shouted a girl. Alicia Spinnet. "There's a raging storm! We can't go out!"

She was the only witch who could actually shout. All other occupants were panting hard on the floor in a heapless pile. A few feet away from them stood a tall man. Oliver.

"Of course we can! We've been training for a couple hours only and the match with Slytherin is a week away!" barked Oliver Woods, ignoring the whinings from the rest of the teams, "The try-outs were fairly late this year because Snape refused to lend us the field. I had to take it up to McGonagall. After all this fight, we cannot go without twice as much training as we should have had!"

At this point in his speech, Oliver failed to realize some of his new found players had passed out on the ground. The Weasley twins were dry-heaving while Angelina was foaming at the mouth.

"Erh." Was his smart reply. He looked over at the last standing players.

Glaring daggers and probably wishing she had never taken up the broom in her hands, Maureen Potter was openly muttering nasty curses his way while Baelfyre was trying to move his frozen fingers some more. His desperate look told him much of what the boy would be able to do in the next few days.

"Perhaps, we should take a break." He allowed.

As if a spell had been broken, the whole team went running down the changing rooms. Soon enough the running water was heard, with disturbing satisfied moans from the team.

"Hmm. We will meet up tomorrow back again. Bael, Fred, George, no detention. Please." He added as an after-thought after passing the showers to take his own robes.

Oliver was met with utter silence. Ugh. He just knew he would have to talk to McGonagall once again about freeing his team of detentions. He just hoped Snape wouldn't barge in. It was too much of a hassle when he did. An upcoming head-ache threatened to knock Oliver.

* * *

"Free, at last." Whispered Bael, utterly spent. The metamorphmagus was crouching in his famous make-shift hammock, dangling from the common room ceiling. Not too far away, were his friends happily chatting about the last Duel session.

Bael groaned. He was nowhere near good enough to pretend to be a Duelist. Something he had secretly wished he could be … because, well dang it! His mother was a reknown Duelist. Even Thaddéus kept comparing him to her. And it didn't help that Ron was suddenly becoming very good at the subject. Even Hermione was far better than him. By leaps and bounds.

Grunting to himself while thinking about how he was the last student still not able to materialize a weapon – something Thaddéus kept on reminding him every week or so – Bael angrily threw away a yarn ball.

"Don't be such a sore loser." Had whispered Draco to his ear when even Crabbe and Goyle had summoned huge axes. He himself was glaring down at the unnamed thing in his hand that held no consistence whatsoever.

"Urgh." Managed to croak out Bael. He hated so much Duel lessons. Thaddéus kept on repeating the same words to him: "cooperation". When he had asked all the others how they had done it, it always went along the lines of "I went with the flow.". Which explained nothing to Bael since his metamorphmagus abilities hampered him from going with the flow - or so Thaddéus had muttered.

"Can you stop talking about Thaddéus?" harshly demanded Bael.

His friends shrugged.

"Well, what do you want to talk about then?" asked Ron, "The weather? Apart from that storm, nothing's being much interesting. The Prophet said it would last for a couple weeks though … think the Dementors are affected by it?"

The question was genuine.

Nobody answered it.

"Fine." Huffed Ron, "Ignore me."

"Well, perhaps Bael and you should make a tour of the Castle and check up on that weird room you found out." Suggested Hermione, "I've got some more work to do and I believe Nev' doesn't want to go back down there. Right?"

Neville nodded avidly.

"Yes. Good night. See you tomorrow."

The boy bolted to his room.

"So much for Gryffindor courage." Muttered Ron.

"I think these skeletons frightened him." Mumbled Hermione, "I wouldn't want to go there either."

"You sure?" asked Ron, "I mean, there's the orb room with all the paintings …"

"And the Castle's will." Muttered Bael, "Last time it cast us out. I just hope there won't be any repeat." He said while leaving his hammock. "Come on, Ron. Let's go before we go to sleep."

"Wait!" Hermione stopped the two boys, "You said there were 37 slots, are you sure about that?" she asked Ron.

Bael cocked an eyebrow. What was that about?

"Yes. 37. I counted it thrice."

Hermione frowned.

"Oh. Well, I guess I was wrong then."

She took out a pile of parchment and threw them to the fire.

Both boys stared. Well, it's not like they would have answers anyways. Ron took his best friend's arm and pulled him towards the exit. On the way to the portrait, both boys stumbled upon Colin. Frowning, Ron did ask.

"What is that all about? I've seen you with that dude fairly often."

Bael cringed.

"Call it a … side-project."

Ron eyed him dubiously.

"I just hope it won't endanger me again. Your last side-project left me hanging on a ceiling for three hours straight."

Bael batted away all his insecurities.

"It's not like that. You won't see the result of that particular project before summer."

Now, Ron looked positively anxious.

"Are you sure it is perfectly safe for my health?" he still asked, looking back forlornly at the fat Lady's portrait. "Because, I'm sure we could turn back and-"

"Ron." Sighed Bael, "Don't fret over things like that. Now let's get going. Oliver did a number on all of us and I think he plans to wake the whole team at dawn again. Even if there's a storm out there. What am I talking about? _Especially_ if there's a storm out there."

"Ouch. Hard, mate. Hard." Ron seemed almost apologetic, "Well, let's get down the Chamber once again."

Only him would sound gleeful. Admittedly, he was the only one who had a nice recollection of the events down the chamber. Bael certainly did remember being mauled by a gigantic snake and then by the Castle. He pursed his lips.

"Let's not tarry too long." He repeated, eyeing the once more greasy walls. Why were they greasy on the second floor anyway?

Without sparing a second thought to Mimi's ghost, the two boys entered the haunted bathroom and opened up the secret passageway with an imitation of Neville's Parseltongue. Ron was gifted like that. Sneering at the foul smell down the chamber – no doubt the decaying basilisk was at fault there – the two boys glided down the tunnel. But upon entering the end of the tunnel, they were barred by a huge black cloud.

"Ok, I say now's the time to go back to where we come from." Muttered Bael, "that thing is not normal."

Ron nodded.

"Yeah." Rasped a hoarse voice. An unknown hoarse voice. An angry unknown voice.

The two boys ran as fast as they could, screaming like little girls. Somewhere along the way, the black cloud must have had done something because they were suddenly engulfed by it and returned magically to the Chamber's entrance. And it closed up on them.

Panting hard, both friends stared. Clutching their wands in their hands, they promised they wouldn't tell a soul about the screams.

"Somebody was … _is_ down there." Faintly whispered Ron. A barely audible sound was heard, starting the two boys. "Let's get out, mate." Urged Ron, "We'll make heads or tails of this later."

A couple days later, and both Ron and Bael would jerk at odd times. Even at the Great Hall, the eve before the quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin (tensions were already high at this time of the year), the both of them seemed to fidget.

"Oh, out with it." Demanded Hermione, "You two looked like you've seen a corpse."

If possible the two boys paled.

"I swear it was not me." Conjured Bael.

Hermione and Neville looked at him oddly.

"Moving on." Mustered Hermione, "Bael, I think we need to talk."

The metamorphmagus cocked an eyebrow. What was this all about? Ron and Neville both listened with rapt attention.

"I know you are more focused on the Quidditch match right now, but I just went to the library and I think I cracked the coin code."

"There was a code?" asked Neville, not aware of the situation. Wait, he wasn't aware the two Gryffindors _were_ working on cracking a code on the coin. Or a code at all.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron and Bael's gazes. They had the same empty look that Neville had.

"Yes. Listen. A few weeks ago, you ended up in the ruins tomb, right?" asked Hermione, shushing her voice so that only her friends could hear her, "Well, remember Bael going to the ruins this summer and saying he found names on each temple? There were numbers too. I connected the names on the coin, to the names in the ruins."

"How?" wondered Ron, "And why? And do the numbers have to do with it?"

"Everything!" rushed Hermione. "Bael said the ruins held the names of the 2nd generation of wizards of the sacred 28. Well, the coin holds the names of their sons and daughters. Not all of them, but enough that, given the numbers attached to each name, I was able to-" Hermione stopped when she saw her comrades looks. She huffed. "Oh come on, it is not that complicated. Anyway, the rest is just about ordering each sentence you found in the ruins with the numbers you found. It ends up in a poem. Look." Hermione pulled out a parchment and gave it to Bael and Ron. Neville stood up to read over their shoulders. "So, what do you think about it?"

Bael opened his mouth.

"I think you're brilliant." He exclaimed, stars in his eyes, "Even the Decryption team from the Ministry didn't go that far. Well, I bet they couldn't go that far … " he whispered, eyeing readily the poem. "They didn't have the coin to know which numbers and names to use. Auror Jobard said the ruins were dated. I think he said somewhere in the 1000's … so the odds of that poem describing the era from back then is quiet high."

Hermione's smile dimmed.

"The poem is about a huge war. Between muggles, wizards and the Stars." Muttered Ron, reading through the poem once again. "Weren't the Stars wizards?" he asked.

"Yes, they were." Answered Neville. "They probably were metamorphmagus too. Because they are described as great shape-shifters …" he continued uneasily, ignoring Bael's looks. "We don't know more about them."

"Anyway." Cut Ron, "So I get it, these Rasa, Turam, Aluka and Helga are important people and all … but who's this Sentry guy? And the Warden?" Ron pointed to a few lines.

The whole group sagged in defeat.

"No idea." Mumbled Bael, his brow creasing, "But," he smiled outrageously, "Do you guys realized we must have stumbled on some pretty deep history?" his eyes were gleaming, "We know next to nothing to this era and war! And the Queen! And that army …" Bael was left in wonderland for a couple seconds, before he regained some decency, "Alright." He coughed, "Hermione, in the ruins, there were roman numbers. What of them?"

Hermione frowned.

"I don't know yet. I'll tell you when I'll have something to do with it."

Bael seemed heartbroken. "Oh. Well." He mixed his stew with some bread, "Another time then."

Hermione smiled.

"Another time." She promised.

* * *

Neville roared with Ron. Both boys were cheering for the upcoming Gryffindor team in the stands. Hermione was squeezed in between them, looking wholly uncomfortable. The raging storm might have been why.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I HAVE THE HONOUR OF PRESENTING YOU THE GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH TEAM!" clamor rose in the stands under Lee Jordan's speech, calling out all members of the team. "THIS YEAR AGAIN, WOOD IS KEEPER, POTTER IS SEEKER, WEASLEY TWINS ARE THE BEATERS, AND FINALLY BUT NOT LEAST JOHNSON? SPINNET AND BLACK ARE OUR CHASERS!" the crowd was positively roaring, but no one could have said if people were jeering or supporting the team. "AND NOW? THE SLYTHERIN TEAM, LED BY FLINT THE CHASER, ALONG WITH PUCEY AND MONTAGUE, WITH MURLEN AND HIGGS FOR THE BEATER POSITIONS, ROWLE FOR KEEPER AND MALFOY FOR SEEKER!"

Neville swore the clamor was less intense when the Slytherin team was called out. He might have been biased though.

"THE TEAMS ARE IN POSITION ON THE PITCH. MADAM HOOCH IS MOMENT'S AWAY FROM THROWING THE QUAFFLE AAAAAANNNNNNDDDD! HERE IT GOES! SPINNET TAKES IT, SHE DIVES TO ROWLE AND SCORES! Well, that was fast, professor. 10 TO 0 FOR GRYFFINDOR!"

If there was one thing Neville and Ron did in this match, it was the shouting. Amidst the heavy rain, the flurry of Quidditch players seemed quiet enthralling. Although, with that weather, fouls were bound to go unnoticed. Ron had practically sworn he had seen Montague grab one of their chaser's leg. But considering the Chaser had punched him square in the jaw, the foul had never been reported.

"AND ANOTHER SCORE FOR BLACK! 80 TO 30 FOR GRYFFINDOR!" announced Lee in between a quarrel with professor McGonagall about a penalty given to Slytherin.

"At this rhythm, we will win easily." Muttered Hermione, more preoccupied with keeping her personal heat. The rain was freezing.

Only, things weren't that nice. For Maureen was seen plunging down toward the ground, Dementors trailing behind her.

* * *

"Don't look so down." Patted Ron to his best-friend. "We only lost 160 to 180. You did score a few nice goals …"

Bael was still glaring.

"I think I will join the team in the shower drowning session we have." Finally, relented Bael, leaving his friends in a corner of the common room. "Do you have any idea how demeaning it was to see Dragon's face gloating?" he whispered to himself.

"Dragon?" asked warily Neville. "Is that … Malfoy's complete name?" he outright laughed when Bael ignored his remark in favor of the showers.

Besides him, Ron and Hermione were stifling laughs.

"Dragon." Repeated Ron, "How did his parents come up with such a name anyway?"

"With constellations." Replied Hermione, "Bael kept whining about it in our first year. And Dragon is just Bael's endearing name to Malfoy. The constellation is Draconis Something." She explained when her friends asked how she could know about such things. "Ah, Colin!" she called the second year forward.

Ron and Neville eyed the Gryffindor curiously, wondering why Colin had handed Hermione a small book. Hermione only tsked at her friends and stuffed the book in her handbag. Something that would deter both boys from looking in. Because Ron had once been almost swallowed by the bag. Even to this day, he cursed Bael for having gifted Hermione the magical item.

"Well, with that, let's try to cool down our heads a bit." Murmured Hermione, "Good night."

The two boys watched their friends leave. Suddenly, Ron piped up.

"I think there's something between Bael, Hermione and Colin."

Neville rolled his yes. Of course, there was something. It was so obvious, it almost hurt.

"Like, I think Colin has a crush on Hermione but Bael and Hermione are secretly dating."

Neville blinked. Once. Twice.

"What?!"

Ron shrugged.

"It's just that I've seen Bael and Hermione just the two of them in weird places. Like isolated places. And … you know … with Hermione being a muggleborn and Bael a Pureblood … I mean, I get it they would try to hide their relationships." Explained the ginger.

"Err … I don't think they are a thing though. I thought Bael had a thing for Parkinson or Greengrass. Perhaps both. At least, I was pretty sure he liked blondes."

Ron eyed him with _hope_

"You really think so?"

Oh, boy, he was unto something there.

"Yes, Ron. I'm sure." Replied Neville with a grin, "Bael actually sees Hermione like his sister. Of sorts."

"Oh. Cool. I'm cool." Whispered the Weasley. "Wait a minute!" roared back Ron, "Since when does Bael have a thing for Slytherins? And _Parkinson_ , of all the …" Ron made a grimace. "Ugh. I think I'm going to barf somewhere."

"Well, Bael does get out of his way to always insult her. I think it's his way of showing he likes her more than the others." Grinned Neville, "Or so Hermione says. But since those two know each other from way back, there's no way to really know."

Ron was distraught.

"Ugh. And Greengrass? I mean, I don't think I've ever seen him talk with her."

"Precisely. He avoids her. And Bael avoids no one. Except Draco."

Ron made a face.

"He's weird. But I guess, coming from his family … that's about as normal as you'd get."

"So …" began Neville, already purring with anticipation. "Hermione, Ron? Since when?"

Ron turned bright red and denied ever saying he liked the witch. Neville laughed at the obvious denial etched on his face.


	36. Begin anew

**Hey there. just a quick word to thanks all of you, and also to say all chapters have been edited.  
**

 **On this note, I also want to say this chapter is the start of an epic journey - one which truthfully I'm not sure how to write correctly haha. But I have things all planned up to the end of the fourth year, pethaps even middle of the fifth.**

 **Anyway, enjoy and ignore my ramblings :D  
**

* * *

 _Chapter 36: Begin anew_

 _._

 _._

Bael woke up with a nasty migraine.

First of all, he was not in the mood to catch up with his friends. Even if the Quidditch match had been over for over a couple days, Bael held grudges like a Sphinx. Which meant, he was a damn sore loser.

Then, when he had glanced at his timetable, he had had the pleasure of realizing he would have runes, potions and then duel. Bael seriously considered breaking his leg to miss the classes. But then, he was deemed persona non-grata in the Infirmary Ward for unknown reasons. He blamed Snape.

And finally, Bael had detention with Snape that evening. And no, it was not related to why he blamed Snape for the Infirmary ward.

Really, he was up for damn awful day. At least, he hoped the weather had relented. It had rained for over two weeks straight now, and mood was an all-time low for students. Which was not normal, according to the Prophet. Bael frowned, having read about unnatural magical occurrences disturbing the weather in the Eastern part of the country. Oh well. He wasn't an astro-wizard, so he wouldn't have any answers. So, in order to evaluate the weather, he went to the window to open it. And he was drenched in half a second.

"Ok. So I guess, the weather is still as bad." Muttered the metamorphmagus, waving lazily his wand to dry his clothes. He glared at the window and then at his bag wherein lain his _middle-age_ duel clothes – he knew he would be muddy by the end of the day. He pinched his nose, thinking about the class. He just knew today would be a shitty day.

"Happy Birthday, man."

Bael started and stared at Ron's form. He was still half asleep – the little rascal had no rune class this morning and was sleeping in.

"Open your present." Mumbled Ron slowly, eyes barely opened.

Bael allowed a smile. Perhaps this day could actually go wonderfully. The metamorphmagus went to high five his friend and to unwrap the gift. It was a ring mounted with a topaz rock.

"What … Ron! You didn't have to!" ushered Bael, grinning while sliding the ring on his right index hand.

"Don't worry, mate. It was something Bill got from the Goblins for some work. That way, it'll match with your other rings, right? You always wear that ruby and arm of coats."

Bael frowned and looked at his left hand. The ruby was actually Andromeda's former engagement ring. Somehow, his Aunt had given it to him when they had first met because he had been like her fiancé then. He had sported the ring forever since – and he was practically sure his mother had raved about the jewelry more than once to Aunt Cissy.

"Yeah." Awkwardly said Bael to answer Ron, "Thanks mate. Really."

But Ron was snoring.

Bael heaved a sigh. Only his best friend would pretend to be asleep just so that they would escape the weird emotional moment. But he wasn't one to discard such an offer. With a speed he didn't know he had, Bael bolted out of the dorms. He saw Hermione ready to leave for breakfast.

"Ah, Bael!" she waved, "Happy Birthday." She smiled and gave him her present. "it isn't much, but …"

Bael smiled.

"nah, don't worry. I'm sure I'll like it."

With glee, Bael discovered a kit for a broom maintenance. Oh, he was so in love with the gift. With a huge wooping sound, Bael embraced Hermione.

"That's awesome! Thanks!"

His surprise didn't stop there. A few minutes later, a huge screeching owl was landing on the table near Bael, a small parcel wrapped in between its talons.

"I wonder who is it from." muttered Bael while taking the parcel in his hands.

The bird had left by the time he was opening the gift. Inside, lodged with a small birthday card – and the names of those who had sent him the card – laid a strange 8-shaped form. Hermione peered inside.

"So, who's it from?"

Bael smile tenderly, not missing a beat, "Family." He whispered. "The good ones."

"the good ones?" she repeated, before understanding dawned on her mind, "Ah. Is it a joint gift?" she finally asked.

"Yeah …" Bael frowned. He didn't exactly know what it was. "But I don't kno-" he stopped when he finished unravelling the gift, "These are … lenses." With adoration etched on his features, Bael opened the two capsules on the 8-shaped cubicle of sorts, "Magical lenses … it must have cost a small fortune."

Bael had not wasted a single minute to change his glasses for the lenses. Briefly transfiguring his goblet into a mirror and rinsing his fingers with water, Bael put them in. He ignored the disgusted faces of his classmates.

Slowly, his migraine was receding. Which was good, considering he still had a long day before him. At breakfast, Bael did see his cousin, and scowled when he had the gall to offer him a snake. Really, he shouldn't have bothered with Draco anyway. Pushing the snake away with a disgusted face, he was also unsurprised when Hadès – his mother's owl – descended and confronted him with a letter. With a bit of apprehension, Bael opened the letter.

"So, anything good?" asked Hermione a bit quietly.

Bael scowled.

"I don't know why I put up with them." He whispered harshly. "They forgot about my birthday. I mean, even _Draco_ tried. I feel insulted here." He whined, pushing Hadès away and burning the letter with bitterness. "I'll be up in runes. See you later." He muttered.

"Don't." cut off Hermione. "I'll go with you."

Bael stiffened, but thanked her later anyway.

"I don't know why I react that way." He finally whispered to his best friend, all the while looking at the window, waiting for the class to fill in. "It's always a disappointment in the end."

"Oh, Bael. I'm sure something must have happened. Perhaps with that storm, their mail hasn't arrived."

Bael's eyes were actually alight with slight hope.

"Perhaps. I don't think so, though."

Yes, a shitty day in perspective.

* * *

"Alright class!" professor whatshisnameagain babbled. Bael really should put more effort in this class if he couldn't bother to remember his teacher's name. "Let's stop moping around! Today's assignment will be about Marlow's law – which is quiet similar to the Andrean code some of you must have met in Arithmancy. A number for a certain letter, with a slight twist when-"

Bael ignored the voice. He already knew Marlow's law anyway.

 _I think her name was …. Babbling! I'm such a genius._

With a satisfied smirk, Bael bent down on his desk. He only had 30 minutes left before potions. Only 30 minutes left bef … Bael fell asleep in under a second.

"Mr Black!" quipped a voice near his ear.

Bael started and almost knocked down the teacher.

"Oh. Professor Babbling. My apologies."

On a side-note, never anger a runes professor. They have a knack for giving the worst kind of punitive homework. Bael groaned as he eyed warily the 30 cm long parchment he was supposed to translate for tomorrow. And to say he had detention with Snape … ugh. He would have to pull an all-nighter.

"Bael!"

Bael turned to glare down at whoever was calling him.

"what?!" he snapped. It was Hermione. Bael squashed down the remorse he felt. Right now, he needed to vent. And the next classes weren't going to allow him to do so.

Hermione's brow creased. She pulled him aside.

"Not so loud." She insisted, "Bael, the numbers from the poem and all, remember them?"

Bael emitted a sort of grunt, watching the grandfather clock for the time he would arrive in potions. He didn't need Snape on his back this morning. But perhaps that was wishful thinking.

"What of them?"

"I used Marlow's law on them." Answered the witch. She hesitated before asking, "Bael, you've never … tinkered with time, right?"

Bael stared.

"What?"

Hermione pursed her lips.

"I … oh, just look. The numbers … they spelled out your full name Bael." She harshly showed him her notes, "There, Xerxès Baelfyre Arctymeus Black Lestrange."

All colors drained from Bael's face.

"Bael, you swear you've never been to those ruins, or used … I don't know. A time-turner? It would explain why Ms Pomfresh was so mad at you … if you-"

"I'm not a thief, Hermione." Coldly snapped Bael, "And even less of a time traveler. I actually find this to be nonsense. I mean, let's face it. Numbers in ruins, names scattered everywhere and then suddeny my name appears? Right." He snorted, "That's far-fetched. This is … I don't know."

"Do you believe in Seers then? Perhaps, Seers from a forgotten age forecast your name … " asked Hermione.

Both Gryffindors let out a smile.

"Yeah. No." they said at the same time.

"Although, your name was still spelled out, Bael." Muttered Hermione, leaving a thinking Bael.

"I don't know, 'Mione. I've never heard of these people before. So I really have no idea why …"

A strident ring stopped the two friends in their musings.

"We're late for potions!" half shouted Hermione, horror dawning on both their faces.

Well, they were screwed.

* * *

"Granger and Black." Sneered Snape. He seemed to be enjoying this way too much.

Right on the front door of the potion class, both Hermione and Bael were staring at their potion professor, awaiting the fatal house point loss and possibly humiliating next sentence. They were also reining in their ragged breaths, probably starting a few rumors if the slight glint in Brown's eye were anything to go by.

"How nice of you two to join our humble class." Continued Snape, eyes boring in their eyes.

There was a slight stare-down between the teacher and Bael and – Wait a minute. Bael frowned. Was that a probe he had felt on his mind? Oh, he would have never thought his mother's Occlumency lessons would have paid off. But apparently, Snape had noticed that Bael had noticed his mental probe. With a slight smirk, Bael prepared an acid reply. He was cut off by Snape though.

"Enough. Detention for you both, and 50 points from Gryffindor for being late. Also … today's lesson is about burn salves. Granger, partner up with Goyle, Black, with Crabbe.

Bael shut up his mouth.

Oh, this was beginning to be the worst day of class. He reserved the worst day of the year to his confrontation with the basilisk.

"Yes sir." Mumbled Bael with forced politeness.

He swore there was a running gag amongst the teacher to see when he would snap with Crabbe and Goyle. He would be ready to bet a few galleons on that.

During the whole course, Bael felt his patience reducing to an almost non existent layer. And would still have to put up with them for duel. Briefly glancing at Neville and Ron – the two were mouthing insults at his cousin while Bael looked with horror as Crabbe took the porcupine quills and threw them in the cauldron. If possible, Bael would have rather liked to die. Or cease to exist this very moment.

"Black!" snapped Snape. "Care to tell me why your potion is orange and not white?" the dangerous voice of the potion teacher brought back a dry-heaving Bal to reality.

"It was no my fault." Croaked out Bael.

Snape smiled. The horror.

"Perhaps, you ought to listen to professor Thaddéus more. Cooperation is doable when all parties involved are agreeable. And I'm afraid, you are far from cooperating, Mr Black. That will cost you another 10 points and detention with me. Again."

The foul taste of anger stayed upon Bael's tongue for the rest of the potion class. He was feeling mutinous, and his hair probably said as much.

* * *

"So … happy birthday."

Neville's meek voice made Bael smile a little. At least some of his friends cared about him.

"Thanks." Bael smiled, but he was well aware his smile looked like a grimace.

Bael and his friends were at the table, eating lunch. All of them were looking at the windows, where the rain was still pouring down.

"At least there are no lightning bolts." Said Hermione, trying to reassure her friends, "Thaddéus probably plans for a less intensive lesson anyway."

Ron gulped.

"I hope so. I think the day has been awful enough."

"Talk to me about it." Muttered darkly Bael.

Neville wisely chose not to ask. Bael was in one of these moods, you'd better not cross his path.

"Which reminds me" Bael cracked his neck, "I finished what I had to do for Colin."

Ron and Neville zeroed in on Bael, both curious as to what it was. They watched as their metamorphmagus friend – his hair still had yet to relent from the bleeding red like color it had taken during potion - exchanged an orb with Colin, both sounding excited about it.

"Will you tell us about that on day?" whined Ron.

Hermione and Bael smiled.

"Perhaps." Taunted Bael, a newfound light smirk playing across his face.

* * *

"Alright." Thaddéus was garbed in her eternal combat robes, watching over a crowd of sixth and third year students, "You must all being wondering why I gathered you all here." The strict teacher spared them once glance and continued, "Today, I will test your abilities in a full Duel." Excited whispers broke out. "There will be two teams, the Sixth grade and Third grade." Thaddéus waved her wand and black and white tissues appeared. She distributed each one to each team. "The goal, is to take back the flag of the other team and make it back safely to your own team. The pitch used will be the whole Hogwarts Park." People eyed carefully the rain, "You have roughly 30 minutes to prepare. Now scatter."

As always with the teacher, there was only a bare minimum of instructions. As soon as she had said scatter, Bael had not waited long to leave in the park. Actually, he had no other choice. His whole team was going to the park, sparking a few spell to impervious them from the rain.

"First things first, we need communication." Had muttered Susan Bones in their huddle.

Bael was perched on a tree, trying to ignore the whole drama. Already Ron was picking a fight with Draco, while Pansy was insulting Hermione. Smirking, he could already predict which team would be winning this little contest.

Bael opened his eyes.

Or not.

The opposing team would probably think one of them would hold over the flag. But if he were to hide it, per say, with the giant squid … It was technically still within Hogwarts Park. Grinning madly, Bael made a dash to Ron – after all, he was the only one capable of talking to that squid and being listened to.

"So I had this wonderful idea!" began cheerfully Bael, ignoring Draco's attempt at leadership, "We have to hide the flag with the Giant Squid."

His idea was received with rocks. With actual rocks.

 _These uncouth undeserving brats_

Bael was fuming.

Oh fine. He wouldn't be the one fighting anyway. He couldn't materialize a weapon. All he was good at was hiding in a hole and waiting, which he planned on doing. Possibly in a tree, where he would be at least sheltered from the heavy rains.

"Thaddéus always talked about how communication is important. We need to always stay in contact but not be huddled. Or it will be easy to pick on all of us." Explained a ravenclaw – the Patil twin? "So here is a communication device." She handed the whole group a rock. Ah. So that was why he had received a rock on his head. What a violent person. "Also, we need somebody to connect all the rocks together. You just have to swish your wand that way." She demonstrated, "that way, our weakest element in the group wouldn't have to fight."

Bael felt deeply offended when almost all eyes turned to him. So what if his legendary skills in duel had not shown up. He seethed. He would show them all not to mess with a Lestrange.

"Whatever." Muttered Bael when Parvati Patil (that was the Ravenclaw's name) gave him instructions on how to connect the devices. He still had to admit it was very smart. But not as smart as his parchments. At least, his were automatic devices. Her rocks … felt barbaric at best. Ignoring the Slytherins mockery and the apologizing looks sent his way, Bael took the rocks and isolated himself. Clearly, he was not needed anymore.

A strident ring hung in the air. The signal was probably meant as the beginning of the duel against the sixth year. Oh well. Bael would just hear all the squabbles with the rocks. He laughed maniacally at all the blackmail he was sure to gather. This was actually a goldmine. Swishing his hand, he heard Ron's voice asking for a house teaming. Something to do about affinities. And then, they were four groups leaving in Hogwarts park, looking for the sixth year.

As fast as possible, Bael had hidden himself in the high branches of a tree. Along with his metamorphmagus abilities, he was sure not to be caught. Or … wasn't Tonks in the sixth year group? Now, he would have to be extra careful. Belatedly, Bael realized he was freezing, tired and bored. Yawning, he looked around him to identify any upcoming threats. No one was there. And even if he could use some spells to be more comfortable, he felt a bit edgy today. Something, in his guts, told him that soon enough, a threat would come hunt him.

 _Oh no … thunder is coming down_

A thunderbolt crashed somewhere near Hogsmeade. Bael watched the sight with heavy eyes. Smoke was lifted, a tree was on fire in the countryside.

 _The wards should stop them from hitting the grounds anyway_ mused Bael, idly watching the mesmerizing sight of yet another lightning bolt.

"What are you doing up here, boy?" A menacing voice was heard over the storm. "It is dagerous to be there in a thunderstorm."

Bael glanced down. A centaur was casually walking near his tree. He was out of the forbidden forest too. Now, that was suspicious. Perhaps, it was why his guts were clenching. Or perhaps it was because he felt abandoned today.

"Just waiting for the class to end." He drawled, still swishing his hand over the rocks to keep communication between his comrades.

The centaur pursed his lips. He seemed to debate over something before putting his hooves on the tree bark, causing it to tremble slightly and Bael to grip tightly the branch he was perched in. His dark fur was almost shining under the rain drops. And since the rain was not showing any abating signs, the centaur would most definitely get stuck with that ridiculous look for a while.

"Come. You were requested." Came the Centaur's voice again. His eyes boring holes in Bael's back.

Bael's hawk like eyes focused solely on the centaur then. He was pretty sure he had never seen him his entire life. Sure, he had met with Bane and Firenze. And even Altric. But still …

"Who? Bane? Altric? Firenze?"

The centaur seemed pained. He used his hooves once again to hit the tree. He was beginning to be angered, realized Bael. His eyes were almost throwing bolts.

"No. Much more important. Come now."

The centaur's voice was gentle, which was a stark contrast to his earlier attitude. Bael was wary of an Imperio Centaur. It potentially could happen …

"I won't harm you in any way. But you must come now." He urged.

A sinking feeling descended on Bael. The centaur was very serious. And a serious centaur meant trouble. More than Thaddéus would ever be. Quickly deciding to abandon his rocks – his team-mates were being thrashed anyway if the cries were anything to go by -, Bael followed the centaur quietly. The two walked a couple minutes to the Forbidden Forest barrier. Even if the rain was impairing sight, Bael could still feel other centaurs around, stopping him from leaving if he wanted to. He was now officially trapped.

"What's happening?" he asked once again, a hint of panick lacing his voice.

"You were requested." Replied the centaur, looking right in front of him and leading Bael into the heart of the forbidden forest.

"By who?" whined Bael, deciding on his next action.

The centaur stopped walking. He stared down at Bael. The metamorphmagus fidgeted.

"By someone who wishes you well. Fare well, boy." The centaur left on these last words, leaving Bael alone with his thoughts. That, was something he had not predicted. Usually, centaurs liked to use the planets to predict some obscure future. Also, they didn't like people breaching into their territories. And Hogwarts students were amongst their most hated creatures. So, why had the centaurs left him? He was currently in the middle of nowhere. Only a dirty path led somewhere north, putting more distance with him and the Castle.

No. Actually, the centaur had not left. He was watching him behind a tree. And so were other centaurs. Their eyes were eerie. Bael cringed when he realized the centaurs had also drawn their bows. The glinting arrows under the storm compelled Bael to move forward.

Bael gritted his teeth. He was missing the bigger picture here. He hated missing the bigger picture. Slowly, Bael walked towards the small trail the centaur had shown him, wand drawn. Walking painfully towards the clearing, Bael clutched his wand in his hand in case of danger. Behind him, somewhere, another thunder bolt was unleashed, making terrible noise.

"You sure took your time, idiot." A familiar voice drawled not far away from Bael's ear.

Bael turned, wand raised. Heart racing far too fast to be healthy.

"What … ?"

Bael was left speechless. Despair was even beginning to well up in him. For in front of him, the ghost of both Ron and Draco stood, not a day older than the last he had seen them. And they were in their combat clothes. A large stick was held in each of their hands but Bael couldn't move. His tears were mixing with the never faltering rain.

"What happened?! How ...?"

Ho, how much he despised today.

" _Avada Kedavra_ "

Even with the thunder rolling not so far away from him, Bael heard the distinct spell. Somehow, with newfound rage, and in a clogged daze, Bael turned away and dodged the green ray. Standing a few feet away, Peter Pettigrew was grinning. Not long away, Dementors were starting to give the chase, but Bael had only eyes for the Death-Eater. The frozen breeze Dementors brought with them was affecting both wizard, but none moved.

"You …"

Bael clutched his wand tightly.

"It's your fault! Murderer!" screamed Bael, " _Deleor_!"

One of his favorite spell. Pettigrew laughed. With agility, he avoided the spell. A tree exploded. But Bael didn't waver. So much was his rage, that somewhere along the lines, he realized he had been using his mother's spells. Somewhere, too, a part of his mind registered the gash in his right arm. And then, when Bael looked up, Pettigrew had appeared grossly detailed. He stood a mere handshake away. Far too close … far too close to his face.

With horror, Bael realized he couldn't move, a stunner was probably hampering him from doing so. Slowly, he could simply watch as Pettigrew retrieved a black looking sphere. With one of his mightiest effort, Bael tried to cast a last spell.

" _expulso_ " he croaked out

The red lightning touched Pettigrew and expelled him in a broken tree. At the same moment, the black sphere was heaved in the air just as a thunder bolt stroke it.

Bael registered the deafening sound of an explosion, the heat of it too. Somewhere, bark was flying, howls were heard …

As the wind picked up, Bael's grasp on reality fell with his wand. His last sight before darkness engulfed him was the muddy grass and somebody's footsteps approaching his heavy form.


	37. What they should have known

_Chapter 37: What they should have known_

 _._

 _._

Lucius Malfoy was many things. One of them was cruel. And according to the Healer, he also was diagnosed with PTSD. But not many knew that. Still, Lucius rubbed his eyes. Right now, he was attending late lunch with the Minister about some new intern Department whatnot. Not that he cared. Lucius found himself not caring in the slightest in Cornelius Fudge's thoughts of good employees. Now, if he could put some words to demean Arthur Weasley … he would gladly do so.

Although, something else captured Lucius's attention.

A patronus was gliding effortlessly toward their table. That, spelled trouble and emergencies. Because patronus were rarely used. It was only for fast transportations … so if it was needed … for the Minister … hmm, yes. Some emergency, and Lucius would be the first to know all about it. Well, almost.

The wizard levelled his eyes to Cornelius Fudge, his smile not quiet reaching his eyes. But then, all pretense was gone. His smile wiped, as the message was delivered.

" _Emergency issue arises within Hogwarts, Sir. All communications have been cut and reports from Hogsmeade say there was an explosion. Dementors were seen roaming in the park without restriction. I repeat, Sir. Emergency issue arises within Hogwarts, Sir. All comm-"_

Needless to say, no one was grinning or adorning the polite smile usually reserved for lunches. Right now, people were distraught.

In a daze, Lucius realized he had been dismissed. He saw, more than he heard, the Minister leave with a group of wizards, all going to the Department of Mysteries. But his thoughts were solely focused on Draco. And on the Dementors roaming free within Hogwarts.

* * *

Molly Weasley was in the kitchen, trying to cook up a new meal. One she would make for tonight hopefully. Now, things weren't going very well. The mashed potatoes and special pumpkin were delivering a very disturbing smoke and the pot kept on stirring up too much. Well, perhaps she could just not try a new meal. Arthur did like his mashed potatoes anyways. Even if they were a bit too much cooked.

Turning her head to take her wand and switch on the wireless radio, Molly caught her magic clock. All hands pointed to "safe" or/and "at school". Somehow, she registered her husband's hand going to the "on the move" part of the clock before returning to "work". Huffing, Molly turned up the volume of the wireless. Celestina Warbeck was singing, and she didn't want to miss it. Especially since the storm outside was raging like a dragon these days.

 _Aahhhh, You asked for my forgiveness but I stopped you, I stopped you_

 _I wanted you to understand that I was hurt, I was hurt_

 _But you've left your perfume with my wand, with my wand_

 _I'd give up everything to find-_

" _Special report, priority to direct."_ The voice of a reporter, Ameline Garzès, was heard from the wireless, interrupting the song, " _This, is a message from the Ministry for Magic: due to an emergency at Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, all wizards and witches are hereby asked to deliver any piece of information regarding the school should anything happen in the next days or so. The Minister has reported an anomaly. All communications with the school are, for now, null. In the meantime, for security reasons, call to witnesses are to be addressed to the Emergency Department, newly raised for the situation."_

Molly's mug crashed to the floor. Her eyes were riveted on her clock once again. But this time, the hand of one Ronald Weasley was pointing to "in mortal danger". An anguish cry escaped her lips, just as the floo flared to life, letting passed her husband, Arthur Weasley. He, too, was distraught.

* * *

When Bellatrix Lestrange heard the news, she had thought it to be a fluke. When she had heard the news, her mind had told her Xerxès was, of course, the culprit. The brat wanted more attention for his birthday, she had thought with endearment. The gift probably wasn't enough. When she had heard the news, she had used her wand to lift another drink from the buffet in honor of the qualifications championships for duel. When she had heard the news, she had been in quiet pleasant company. When she had heard the news, she had dismissed it like yesterday's garbage.

She shouldn't have.

When, a few hours later, she had used the floo to stagger back to her Manor, Rodolphus and Rabastan had been nowhere to be seen. Which had been the first issue then. But Bellatrix hadn't minded. She never did. With a slight frown, she had wanted to check on Kyla, but her daughter hadn't been in her crib either.

Naturally, Bellatrix had been wary. She had flooed straight to her sister's, only to be met with utter silence. With befuddled rage, the witch had called for the house elves. They never came. Cringing her teeth, Bellarix had resolved herself to go to her mother's house then. And upon arriving, her mother had been shocked to see her.

"What are you doing here?" she had accused, sitting in the sofa, Kyla in her arms. "You are supposed to be in the Wizengamot emergency session."

Bellatrix had frozen on the spot.

"What?!" she had almost screeched.

Without a minute to spare, Bellatrix had rushed to the Ministry. With contempt, she had seen the many worried faces. Fortunately, it seemed people recognized her enough to let her pass without any question. With hurry, she was led by a very young Auror – most definitely a trainee if his stumbling feet weren't proof enough of his less than professional behavior - to the session. And for once, Bellatrix had to admit she was cowed. The room had been expanded to allow every wizard and witches holding seats. All in all, it was around 874 seats given. Hers, was with the Black section, next to - Bellatrix paused when she saw the familiar faces – Sirius, Andromeda and her sister, Cissy. None of them spared her a glance, their eyes were completely focused on the Minister.

Idly, Bellatrix realized Albus Dumbledore wasn't there to preside the session, like he should have been.

"-forces gathered at Hogwarts to break down the wards." Was finishing the Minister. His bowl hat was nowhere to be found today. "As of now, communications are still cut off, but within a few hours, the Castle should be reached and explanations should be held."

As the Cornelius Fudge mumbled some other meaningless words, a witch stumbled into the room, bringing a parchment with her. Her green robes identified her as an Astrowitch. She gave the parchment to the Minister and left in a hurry, most definitely trying to finish whatever work she had.

Fudge, upon reading the notice, seemed to have swallowed whole a lemon. A very bitter one.

"I am informed by the meteorologic department" began the wizard with some difficulty, "the storm was a magical occurrence from Ilvermorny, School of North America."

The statement was received with a deafening silence.

"This means war!" cried out one Amos Diggory, "These Americans! First, they try to undermine us and then they dare attack our very _children_!"

In the whole clamor that arose the next moments, Bellatrix felt oddly out of place. Never had she felt so alone in that sea of wizards and witches. Also, her mind was crossed with the fact _mudbloods and halfbloods_ were attending the session. She was positively reeling.

* * *

Ron wanted to retch so hard, it tore his stomach asunder.

To be honest, he had been scouting the area with Neville and Hermione while the other Gryffindors had been on the lookout in case of troubles. And, then, amidst the rain and thunder, a huge explosion had been heard. Ron and his friends had had just enough time to turn their heads toward the origin before being swallowed whole by a huge tongue of fire. Instead of the burning sensation he should have felt when the fire had reached him, a searing tug in his guts had wrenched him. He had fallen to the muddy floor, hands first on the mud clutching his old wand.

His vison was blurry at best and his hearing had yet to come back, too. Swishing his head from left to right, Ron was met with utter desolation around him. Some bushes were seen a few miles away. Trying not to stare too much, Ron realized that no Castle stood behind him. No. Nothing but his two closest friends. They were talking, registered after a while Ron. To him.

"LRIGHT, RON?" Hermione was shouting, worried. Ron shrugged his head, still shocked at the fact the Castle had disappeared right in front of them.

Neville didn't fare better in his back. He was trembling, looking dumbstruck by the mere thought of Hogwarts not being there anymore. And Hermione was ranting. Oh, and it was still pouring down a drain, noticed the ginger head. The bloody thing wasn't stopping anytime soon either, going by the awful clouds gathering up ahead.

With his two friends, they obviously chose to huddle together and took out the communication rocks, trying to reach the familiar voices of their friends.

"Can somebody receive me?" he asked, his voice trembling. Hermione and Neville both pinched their lips.

"I've already tried." Finally relented Hermione. "Nothing. Bael mustn't be activating the rocks. I can try for a distress signal, but if muggles see the sparks …"

Ron was officially distressed.

They were lost in the middle of nowhere.

"At least, we have our wands." Tried to cheer up Neville, "We'll just have to wait for the Aurors to come. Or Na-Dragons. I don't know where we are." He mumbled the last part.

 _CRACK_

 _CRACK_

 _CRACK_

"See." Smiled Neville. His smile was wiped off within a millisecond. The tell-tale magenta robes of the Aurors were nowhere to be seen. Whoever had Apparated to their spot was hiding. The multiple popping sounds were heard once again. On instinct, the three Gryffindors stood back to backs.

"So, I suppose this is not the Sixth year trying to scare us." Lightened up, Ron, voice cracking with nerves. He received an elbow between his ribs by Neville. Now was not the time.

"Who's there?" shouted Neville to the seemingly empty plateau.

The three Gryffindors tightened their grips on their wands. A ruffling sound was heard in the bushes.

Nerves acting, Ron sent a stunner toward it. The reaction was immediate. The three friends got flattened by a yellow spell. Literally. They were shoved on the ground by an invisible force, knocking down their breath.

"You mongrels!" hissed somebody somewhere, "you could have been spotted!"

Or, that was what Ron thought the man – the voice was grave enough to belong to a grown man – said. His speech pattern had been way more convoluted and old.

A rough hand grabbed his shoulders and made him stood upright once again. But Ron was still stuck in his position, unable to move a single finger. Which probably stopped him from screaming from fright. The man – he had been right – before him was gruff looking. Adorned in several layers of black clothing, a scarf covering hi lower face and hair greasy enough to put Snape to shame, the man grunted again.

"You're the third group to appear. Hurry."

Ron didn't question it. Perhaps this was one of the famed Na-Dragons. Either way, he couldn't talk. Gazing into the black orbs of the man, Ron didn't see the other men, clothed the same way the man was, grabbing his friends and Apparating away.

Not ready for the gut-wrenching feeling, the ginger did throw up once he found new stable floor. Drenched and dirty as he was, it didn't make any difference now.

"Weasel couldn't hold it in?" a sarcastic voice reached Ron's ears.

Ron ticked.

Of all the people he could have ended up with, he had to end up with Malfoy. Dear Merlin, what had he done to warrant such hate from the fates?

"Malfoy." Acknowledged Neville in place of Ron.

Hermione was staring at her surroundings.

Something Ron did too.

"Where are we?" he asked, touching the walls. It was a weird rock.

"In a secret cave." Answered one of the clothed men.

Ron started, he hadn't seen the man there. And just as he was going to pounce for more information, the man held up his hand.

"Not now." He said commanding, "Just wait for the others to come."

Ron shut up.

He hoped the others were not some Slytherins.

It turned out, they didn't have to wait too long for the black clothed men to make a reappearance. They came back, bringing back Ron's fellow Gryffindors and some two sixth year lost Hufflepuffs.

"That's all there was in the Eastern region."

Ron frowned. They shouldn't have been in the East of anything. Hogwarts was south west of the British Isles.

The leader of the wizards – and was there a witch in the bunch too? Ron never guessed – stepped forward. He handed down to each student a worn out necklace.

"Ew." Said Draco, "Why would you give us this rag?!"

The man ignored him.

"They're protections against enemies." He finally stated when Draco was about to throw the necklace away, "it gives you some sort of communication to another wizard if needed."

"Why?" questioned Lavander Brown. "Why would we need it? And what enemy?"

The girl looked hideous with mud covering her, something that was clearly irking her if the way she was trying to wipe her hands on her robe was any indication.

The man stared at her for an uncomfortable moment before answering.

"I will be short." He began, drawing his wand slightly when it began to glow. Some signs appeared and with a quick flick, they disappeared. "You are not supposed to be here." The man pointed to the necklaces, "they are not just protections, but also translations necklaces. Because we do not speak exactly the same language."

Immediately following these words, sneering was heard. The glaring intensified so much, it shut any remark. The man continued.

"Here, we are not far from Elimith, a small muggle village." The other black wizards shifted in unease, "you were brought here before any of _them_ could see you." The word had been spit with hatred, as if the idea of muggles burnt the wizard.

"What's there to fear from _muggles_ anyway?" sneered Draco once again, "They're defenseless."

Ron tried not to show his frown at the condescending tone.

"Defenseless?" the leader barked a laugh. It was bitter, "No. They're far from it. Right now, every week or so, you will find a dozen wizard or witches executed by their hands. Mostly children, or old men. And if they don't light the pyre for you, they go to their lords, the Stars." He explained casually. "Never cross them if you don't want to end up dead."

"What?" Hermione pipped up, "But the Stars are just a legend?! Does this mean this Rasa person truly exists? And what about the Sentry? And the Queen?" she blurted in one breath. Clearly, she had a grasp on what was happening, and no one else had.

The names Hermione had blurted out seemed to get reaction from the people clad in black.

"Where did you hear those names?" demanded a harsh female voice. It was frozen, unforgiving.

The leader held up his hand in the air to diffuse the tension. He must have communicated with the witch somehow, because she snarled but didn't say another word.

"The Stars are no legend, girl." He grinded out, "They are very much real and they have been purging the land of pureblood wizards for a dozen centuries already."

Draco Malfoy almost fainted. And so did his friends.

The man regarded him weirdly, not knowing how to act.

"Anyway. If you want details, go ask somebody else. What you all need to know is that muggles are very much aware of us. They would do anything to hunt us and hand us to the Stars. Only because the Stars have brainwashed them. But it doesn't stop their crimes." The man breathed in, "Don't go outside without supervision. I would recommend you all stay here an-"

"They can fight." Urged one of the black clad wizard, "They obviously have been trained." Now, if Ron wasn't mistaken, the man sounded desperate.

"They're children." Replied the leader, somewhat weakly.

"And we were younger when _we_ decided to fight. We need them, face it Raoh."

The leader, named Raoh said nothing. He simply evaluated each student with some caution. Pinching his lips, he barked.

"We'll see about that. They'll have to be useful anyway. Lead them to the Queen's third regimen. The Generals will take care of them."

Ron panicked. He didn't like the sound of it all. Being inducted into an army of sorts had not been in any of his plans for the future.

"Take the green ones to Salazar, the yellow ones to Helga and the red ones to Godric. I'll go myself to Rowena anyway."

Protest erupted just as fast on every Hogwarts students lips, names too familiar to be true.

* * *

"Empathy links should permit any parents to contact their child." Finished a lanky wizard to an assembly of worried parents, "the link should be stronger with the two parents, else .. well, there won't be enough time, I guess." The wizard's voice withered away under the ferocious glares of all the parents. He coughed slightly, "Alright, would each parent reach for the Healers next to your right. Follow them to the rooms intended for empathy links purposes. As explained earlier, the link you will establish is more than likely to be weak if the child is awake. And short. Expect at most 5 minutes."

The wizard high-tailed out the room as soon as he was not demanded again.

Bellatrix snarled. What a coward. For sure he was no pureblood.

Quickly joining her husband and Healer Schiller to a side-room for the empathy link, Bella interrupted a conversation between Andromeda – that Blood traitor – and her, dare she say it, _husband._ They spared no attention to her and Rodolphus, not that they needed any. They were deep in a conversation, huddled close so that nobody could hear.

"I told you Ted, the Healers are formal. Only biological parent can come in." she whispered just loud enough for Bellatrix to hear. "They'll be safe anyway."

And Bellatrix froze a millisecond. That was something new. But her husband tugged her toward the side-room, and she could no more hear the hushed conversation. Somehow, something that felt very important just escaped her understanding, and it didn't arrange her mood.

"This way." Curtly ushered Healer Schiller.

The man seemed utterly battered. But Bellatrix could understand. These last few hours had been hectic at best, and tension was high. Actually, bar that. Schiller had family in America. She could bet half her vault contents, threats had already been issued.

"The ritual will be short." Said the blonde man, "Just let a drop of blood down on the goblet" Schiller pointed a wooden goblet, "and repeat thrice the words _eat in memoriam_." The Healer pulled a couple chairs, "Then, we will mostly wait until the connection is established. After that, you will be able to talk to your son. If he is awake, you will most likely hear what he hears. If not, it will be a void of sorts. Also, don't use your wands or you could cause irreparable damages to your son's head."

The instructions were precise, that much was clear.

Neither her, nor Rodolphus wasted a second. Rodolphus used his wand to prick his finger while she used her knife. It had been a nice gift from her son, too. Hurriedly, she deposited her drop of blood in the goblet and watched fascinated as Schiller incantated and let her and Rodolphus do the same. Very soon, the blood in the goblet slid down and formed a rune on the floor.

Bellatrix's brain translated the rune immediately to "mind link". Without missing a heart-beat, she waited for something to happen. Slowly, ethereal voices reached them.

It seemed her son was awake.

" _De Romae quaeris, meridianam, quod ire necesse est. »_

 _« Ago gratias tibi. »_

 _« Salvum itineribus, amicus."_

Again, Bellatrix translated. Latin, was, after all, very common. She had forced it upon Xerxès at a young age, and she was glad she had done so. Now, if memory served her right … did her son just asked how to go to Rome?

Rodolphus cleared his voice, and the voices abruptly stopped.

"Son, can you hear me?"

The rune flashed several times.

"Son?" repeated Rodolphus, worried.

"Don't resist!" urged the gentle voice of Healer Schiller. He was rearranging some border runes. "Let your Occlumency shields down."

" _I …"_ began Xerxès's hoarse voice, " _Are you really there?"_

"of course, we are here, Xer." Admonished Bellatrix, speaking for the first time. "Now, we don't have a lot of time. Something happened at Hogwarts. What is it? And where are you?"

Xerxès took a lot of time to answer. And the pained look from Healer Schiller told them enough to realize time was almost up.

" _We're doomed. I am doomed. Mom, there's a war …"_ the voice broke down, some sound were heard, "Di Immortales. _Help me. You don't understand"_ rumbled Bael somewhat crazily, " _they do not eat, they do not take showers … they do not sleep! Get me out of this mad house!"_ his voice was downright begging.

"What is happening, Xer?!" urged Rodolphus frantic.

" _Stars! Th-"_

The rushed voice abruptly cut off.

"I couldn't keep it for longer." Reasoned Schiller, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow, "And I think we might want to report to the Minister."

"You think?!" snapped Bellatrix, grabbing her wand and tightening her hold. "Rod', let's go."

* * *

Ron glanced at the crowd.

After the revelations, which had yet to properly sink in his brain, the wizards had led them to a huge room. And there, the shocking young faces of Hogwarts founders had greeted them sternly. Ron was still openly gawking.

"Ron." Shushed Hermione, "They are all …"

"Famous." Cut the ginger head, following the light footsteps of the black men to the huge crowd.

"No." whispered the witch. She tightened her hold on both Neville and Ron's arm. "Look at their faces. All of them." She pointed to the crowd. "They are all _teenagers_. As in _young_. Not dead."

Ron did take a thorough look at the crowd. He gulped when he saw barely older faces than theirs.

"What does it mean?" asked Neville worriedly.

"It means they are no other people capable of fighting." Snapped one the black clothed men, "Watch your tongues. Here, we all have suffered from the Stars. Don't think that because you were suddenly flinged here, you are the only martyrs."

Ron sensed a bitter story behind the words. He had the sensible reaction not to push for it.

"What are we waiting for?" demanded Seamus.

The boy had been just behind Ron and practically throbbing with energy.

"You will be sorted as the General will see fit. If you can't fight, you will be asked to teach. Or do something useful. We can't very much let you all out of here."

"And why is that?" demanded Parvati Patil, "We've done nothing wrong. We are not your prisoners!"

The black clothed men had the gall to outright laugh at the remark.

"you really don't know anything, do you?" he rhetorically asked. And from the blank faces he received, he explained, "Alright, listen well. A few centuries ago, the brightest witches and wizards of their age regrouped. They were named the sacred 28. Together, they created a new form of magic. The sentient buildings. There were supposed to be imbued in enough magic to grant the buildings any action it wanted, it was supposed to be a revolution. The problem, was that during the inauguration, things went awry. The magic got out of control, and brutally robbed of their magic the wizards and witches. The sentient buildings reacted violently and pushed them out. When the wizards and witches regained consciousness, they were surrounded by what we now call the Stars." The man looked at the Hogwarts students and pursed his lips. He explained some more. "The Stars are sentient beings capable of taking any form they want, and they grow stronger when they absorb magic. Needless to say, with the sentient buildings, they have wreaked havoc on us, looking to absorb all of our magic. They have even turned the muggles to chase us. To hunt us." The black man talking stopped, "Right now, almost the whole Isles are barren of any magical folk living freely. We are all in some refugee. Our parents … they decided to make a rallying call, to ask for help. It never came, and the Stars came swooping them. Never saw them back. We only can rely on the Queen, now."

Ron was feeling terrified.

"But … what happens to … muggleborns? I mean, they don't know anything and …" Hermione was trembling.

"Muggleborns? I don't know. They aren't primary target anyway. Somehow, the Stars love the blood of the original 28, so worst case scenario is to be a pureblood or of their descent. Most of the time, muggleborns are ignored. If not, they usually find the squibs who then give instructions to join us."

Ron tried to sit. This was … so much.

"And … how do we come back?" he finally asked.

The man seemed to hesitate.

"The Queen and her advisors are probably talking about it. I heard they thought it was the Stars that brought you all here. They seem to think a lot of you are purebloods." He pointedly looked at them all. Ron squirmed. He never had hated his status as much as now. "They will try to reverse whatever brought you here once the war is over."

"But!" Hermione ticked, "That war you talk about is centuries long! We could be stuck for years here before coming back!"

"We've made advance on the front, though." Commented meekly another black clad wizard – he wasn't that old too, 15 at best, "So, I'd give a couple years. Apparently, a spy department has opened, and it's going quiet well. Thanks to Aluka and Raoh."

The man who talked seemed genuinely happy about the fact the end of the war was approaching. The others, not so much.

Whatever, Ron needed rest. Also, he hoped Bael could find a way out, wherever he was. He had yet to see his metamorphmagus friend.

* * *

Ron was sitting on a bench, forlornly looking at the floor. Around him, his Gryffindor friends were here. Some paces away, Ron could also see the Slytherins. And scattered around the two groups were a couple of sixth year students.

"They said we'd have a few days before being induced into their … _army_ … of sorts." Painfully said Neville, "In two days time, a colonel should fetch us, and I quote "assess our abilities". After that, we should be scattered to different parts in this hide-out."

"This is not a good idea." Mumbled Hermione, "We shouldn't scatter."

"But for them, it is." Countered Ron, "Fresh wands to pick a fight, with apparently, moderate usage of magic – I don't know if you've seen that dude over there, he was barely able to _lift_ a rock. So, of course we'd be assets for them. Their only issue is that we all want to leave. So they will prevent any communications between us. Divide us." Mumbled the ginger head.

Hermione and Neville frowned.

"Then … could we use the same rock things Parvati used for the … duel thing?"

Ron shrugged.

"It wasn't that effective. It required somebody to always wave his wand over the rocks. No … we need something like the parchment. Or better yet, the mirrors Maureen and her father used."

Hermione pinched her lips.

"That's magic we don't know …" she supplied, "perhaps if we could talk to some educated wizard here …"

"Dunno." Whispered Neville, his eyes gleaming. "Shouldn't we at least make sure everybody is here? Because, if only the people in Hogwarts park were touched, that means Thaddéus and all the sixth year, and the rest of our group, should be down here. And Bael, too."

"They probably were picked up like we were." Said one Slytherin. Ron recognized Theodore Nott, "And Thaddéus is big enough to take care of herself. She must have fled long ago. I doubt that old cogger would have let herself being taken like we were." He bitterly said. "It's her fault anyway. This whole mess is. We're stuck here, _in another era with teenage Founders_ , with nothing but our wands and some scrap of history! Is there somebody here, that listened enough in history of magic to tell us where we are down the troubles? And what is that war about? Apart from the blood purge, that is."

A huge silence echoed.

"Perfect!" sneered Theodore, "Just when we need the nuts, they're not here!"

The other people ignored him. They were all on their last nerves.

"If they need to end the war, perhaps we should help." Proposed Dean, "I mean, even Ron saw that they are awful at magic. Probably because they don't have anybody to teach them. If we were to help, we would accelerate the process, and we would be able to go home faster."

"I'm not committing to war!" shouted somebody. "We could risk our lives!"

"I'll do it." Exclaimed Ron, "I don't have any other choice anyway. I'm a pureblood, and if what they say about the Stars is true, then I'm first target here. As all purebloods are."

People looked at him funnily. Or with pity.

"You're not honestly believing what they say!" squeaked Susan Bones, "It's impossible! That would mean we time travelled like … A thousand years!"

Some students began to agree with her. Slowly, a divide was forming. And weirdly enough, both Gryffindors and Slytherins were on the same side.

"It doesn't matter, now." Shouted Tracey Davies, "We're all in the same shit, and just in case you hadn't realized, Bones, they talk the archaic way! We've seen the very _faces of the Founders_! Of course it is real! And we're in very deep!" she managed to blurt out, "If we want to leave this place, then we'd better to our best to leave this whole mess with the Stars behind, which means using our own wits! You don't have to fight to be a part of the war effort anyway." She finished.

Ron and Neville were glued to her words. Susan seemed to cow in front of the Slytherin's words, but she stopped whatever she was about to say. Her eyes were transfixed on someone standing behind them.

"Hum, hum." The someone cleared its throat.

Ron turned back to see who was there. He almost fainted.

For in front of them, there was none other than the Queen. Garbed in golden armor and a heavy looking crown, her young face stared at them all. And when Neville was about to say something, he got shoved in the wall by one of her … _guards_ Ron supposed. They were also clad in black, like the wizards that had collected them.

Ron gulped.

"She's barely an adult, I say." He mumbled to Neville when the Queen's form disappeared from their view. "We're screwed big time."


	38. Trapped in body and mind and soul

_Chapter 38: Trapped in mind and body and soul_

Disorientated.

That was what Bael felt like, and what he could only think of. With a gross envy to throw up. His guts were contracting so much, it hurt not to obey the commands. His throat constricted for the umpteenth time, it seemed, before the metamorphmagus could regain some form of control over his motions.

Also, Bael felt a searing pain in his leg. It was the first thing and mostly only thing he could register. His head was too heavy to lift from the muddy grass – he barely notice ho disgusting eating the ground was, and his hands were numb. Somehow, Bael realized it was still raining and probably not arranging his situation. The cold was slowly seeping through his clothes.

 _Dementors must be approaching_ , thought Bael, lids slowly closing to look for some rest. He couldn't find it in himself to move. Either way, he hoped Pettigrew was facing his own ordeal right now. He dearly hoped the dementors would claw away at the wretched man's soul.

"Witchcraft!"

The cry reached Bael's ears faintly. It had been uttered with such … hatred, Bael had his hair standing on edges. His bun had loosened and his long hair were stuck to his eyes. Along with the mud, Bael made out the green coloring of his hair – which explained the surprise of the man not far from him. He was probably a muggle peasant from the countryside.

Through his tired mind, Bael managed to roll his eyes. He didn't believe in fate, but here he was beginning there was someone out to laugh at him wherever he was.

 _How did he even come so close to Hogwarts anyway?_ Wondered Bael, waiting for the Dementor to chase the man away. Pettigrew wasn't that far away – possibly, he had yet to see his body or even hear him. Groggily lifting his head from the ground, the young metamorphmagus wished he hadn't.

Instead of seeing the Hogwarts landscape along with some trees, centaurs and a crazy wizard, stood in front of him a man brandishing a three-pronged pitchfork in a hand. And a torch in his other hand to illuminate the surroundings in the dead of the night.

 _Night? Already so much time had passed?_

Bael stared at the man curiously. Both were frozen on their spots, and not because dementors were lurking. Quite the contrary. It was only the wind making any noise, along with the fire. As if a switch had been turned on, the man suddenly cried out once more.

"Witchcraft!"

Bael had wanted to make a « duh, what are you? Daft or something? » comment. He refrained when he saw the disturbed look the weird man sported. Also, the man was approaching the torch way too close to his body to be normal. With horror, Bael realized the man wanted to burn him. Alive.

A rush of adrenaline had Bael ramping away. His leg was still hurting too much to support his weigh. With a glance, Bael realized a huge stunk of bark had found his way into his thigh, thus the stinging feeling. Bael was hyperventilating. Or at least, he was in the first stages of it. The man, fortunately, seemed old. Or at least, had some kind of trouble standing and was thus unable to give a full chase to him. Although, considering Bael's state, it was enough to scare the young wizard. His anguish must have shown on his face – and Bael had only one regret – his metamorphmagus abilities. They were quick to make the man shout like a very insane person.

"Buuurn! Thou witches art unholy! »

Bael avoided the torch stump very closely, his hair getting in the way – and trying not to think about the witch comment – he would cut his hair next time. The torch had almost grazed his arm when the crazy man had thrown the torch his way. With baited breath, Bael tried to stand and reach for his pocket wand. In situations like these, he couldn't wait for the Aurors to come. He needed to fight back, to hell with the Statute of Secrecy!

Color drained from his face (and hair, definitely the hair too) when he realized he had lost his wand somewhere. Prodding his whole leg trying to find a wand probably didn't help his cause to the crazy man chasing him. Cursing a storm under his breath, Bael could only try to reason the man. Perhaps even persuade him he was seeing things with a bit of Occlumency. That way, when the Aurors would come, there wouldn't be too much hassle.

"Wait!" tried to reason Bael, failing to make eye-contact. The man was awfully guarded, putting a hand in front of his eyes. As if _he knew how_ to guard against Occlumency.

The man – he was missing some serious number of teeth – ignored him and continued his frenzy. This time he tried to beat Bael with his pitchfork.

"Wait!" screamed again the metamorphmagus, avoiding another jab.

« Damned foul beasts! » cried the man with such venom, Bael gulped.

He had landed somewhere not witch-friendly apparently. Definitely not witch-friendly – Bael side-stepped another throw. The man was gaining on him. And given the fact he wielded a weapon while Bael had only found some grass bits on the ground to throw at the man, fate clearly didn't favor the wizard today.

 _I knew today would suck!_

Bael blacked out when the pitchfork hit his face.

* * *

Sometime later – or it was what Bael assumed – Bael regained some form of consciousness. Some muffled voices reached his head.

The young metamorphmagus felt his body being dragged through a pavement, the rocks scratching and damaging his already weak knees. He still couldn't move much. He suspected the bark in his thigh to be highly responsible of that issue.

"-anx, Father. »

Dimly, Bael realized the Aurors weren't coming. They were taking too long. Through his vague moments of being conscious, he realized the sun was peaking again. Morn was not as beautiful on the ground as it was perched on a broom.

Bael refrained from groaning. He was thrown to the hard floor unceremoniously. Only thanking the deities from stopping the overtly real-nightmare, Bael opened his eyes. With apprehension, the Gryffindor saw he had been thrown into some kind of cave. Steeling his nerves, Bael turned on his back to stare at the dark ceiling. His breath was showing, and he could bet several galleons the deranged man who had hit him with his pitchfork had left a nasty bruise on his face too.

Not moving seemed like an option. If only he knew what to do.

Here, in the empty cell – for it was a cell, he could only ponder at his situation. Tears threatened to fall down his face. Injured, wandless and lost. It took some more time to realize no one would be coming for him. No one ever had. Ron might have. But … he was no more. Bael choked.

"No one will come for me" repeated Bael, keeping the tears from brushing with his long lashes. "Ah. In the end, I'm alone." The laugh that came out of his throat was anything but nice.

Gulping, trying to look around, Bael only noticed how damaged his leg was. The wound was ugly, blood had seeped from the wound and soaked his perfectly fine pants. The bark was peeking from one side.

Glancing down to his thigh quickly, Bael palped with his hand the bark.

"Shit." He cursed.

That stung.

Taking in a deep breath, he used his right hand to pluck the bark out before his skin had the wondrous idea to heal completely.

"Aah!" he screamed very shortly, trying not to be too loud. He didn't want to risk having some unwanted visitors.

Very quickly, Bael teared a part of his cloak to create a make-shift bandage and stop the unnecessary bleeding. Several ragged breathes later, Bael stared at the wall in front of him. His only thoughts going back to Pettigrew, the crazy man and the ghosts of his friends. Ron was dead. So was Draco.

"I need to leave this crazy place." Whispered to himself Bael, steeling his nerves to make up a plan. "I can't stay here."

He was cold now. So very cold. His fingers felt numb, and even his breath couldn't do much to heat him up. But, somehow, he must have fallen asleep, because Bael was jerked awake by a sickening jab in the ribs. The process repeated a few times, enough to make his eyesight go blurry once again.

 _Crack_

Somebody had kicked him again, this time with enough force to bruise a rib or two. And shackled him, going by the heavy chains on his wrists.

"Evil spawn." Spat whoever had kicked him, amongst other niceties Bael hadn't bothered to register and translate.

The metamorphmagus could only close his eyes as the spit hit him in the face. His anger and fear levels were dangerously high. Also, he was wide awake now. Glaring at the man earned him another jab in the ribs.

"Learn your place, scum." Snarled the warden, smiling evilly at Bael with his rotten teeth, "You''ll soon be no more."

Bael barely got the time to say anything before being taken by the warden, shackled like an Azkaban prisoner and handed to a taller man. The man was wearing a brown cloak, held together by a thin rope. A heavy fur cloak was thrown on his shoulder to keep him warm. He was, Bael gulped, scarier than the warden had been, in that all-knowing kind of face he pulled off.

The day light was beginning to filter through the cave Bael had been thrown. Ushering him to walk faster, despite the obvious gaping wound on his thigh, the man pushed Bael in another room, one full of other men and women, all of them shackled like he was. Muggles, if the fact he couldn't feel a single magic spark around him was anything to go by. He surmised, he was the only one to be as beaten as he was though. He couldn't see anyone nursing wounds.

The warden forced him to stand still in between two demented looking persons – their teeth rotten once again. The recurring theme disgusted Bael.

 _Muggles have the worst hygiene ever._

He was hit again on the head when his hair shifted.

"Demon!" scowled once again the warden while the other prisoners tried to avoid him, pulling on their shackles.

"Save us!" begged a woman not far from him. She threw herself on the ground at the warden's feet. "I don't want a demon to take me away!" she cried out.

Bael almost cried himself.

 _That woman … does she think I will .._

Bael never finished the thought. The woman screamed like a banshee when Bael met her gaze. She was thoroughly beaten by the warden for daring screaming.

Bael almost puked.

The woman never got back up. And nobody moved an inch against the warden, all too scared to be the next.

He was trapped, and things seemed to be going down very fast.

* * *

"You!"

The warden pointed randomly it seemed at the crowd of prisoners. They were all on their knees, unable to move. The warden stared at a child, perhaps no older than 12. The child whimpered. But he obeyed the warden, eyes clearly lifeless, and followed after the man.

"Hurry" mumbled the warden. The despicable man pulled on the shackle that kept the child's feet trapped. He mercilessly fell on the ground, under the warden's laughs.

Bael closed his eyes. He didn't want to see what would happen next.

He heard it nonetheless.

The cries of the child, the booming laugh of the warden, the clicking of the chains. A pause. And again the warden pointing at somebody in the crowd. Some cries, a laugh, a pause. Repeat.

Amongst the crowd of prisoners, Bael heard some place away a trumpet noise. Somebody was talking but he couldn't be sure. His thoughts were still hazy. With a heavy pang in his heart, Bael tried to avoid the gaze of the other shackled people. Some, Bael saw, were but children younger than the first one had seen. And all of them were resolved to some kind of horrid fate. Their gloom faces said as much. And Bael didn't dare ask what was happening. Nobody would answer him. His clenching heart told him he was about to face his end anyway.

Frantic but quiet, Bael was trying to force the shackles down, trying not to think about how his family would react should they learn he had been captured by _muggles_ of all the things. Their magic-less body was beginning to instill a very deep fear into Bael – one he had felt when he was 5, a time where he needed his mother by his side to recomfort him. How he wished he could simply hear _her_ voice, screeching and ranting against all of the Impures. A few clang noises were heard again. A clamor rose – this time Bael was sure he had heard it. Some more trumpet. And then the warden came back with a smile. Bael stumbled on his restraints – his wrists sore from trying to pull free - too weak to move much. His magic, he could feel, was churning in his side. It was beginning to burn. In this whole mess, his thigh was still burning him. He needed to tend to the wound more seriously before it got infected and-

"Faster!" shouted the warden to a grown man, pushing him, stopping Bael's blurry musing.

Bael watched with detached eyes. Soon, it would be his turn.

Men, adorned in brown wool cloaks would take him to the outside world, where the warden kept coming back from. Someone would talk. People would shout. And it would be his end. The dark oak door separating the prisoners from the rest of the world loomed darkly over Bael's head. Taunting him.

It didn't take too long for the warden to reach him. It was in the elated smile, the sinister way he moved around, almost insane.

"Demons face Purgatory." The warden laughed louder than before. "Your soul will be cleansed."

Grabbing both his arms, Bael was taken in much the same way the man before him had been, bar the plaints. He had never been one for begging, he told himself. Truth was, he was too scared to do anything right now.

It was weird, noticed the metamorphmagus.

He didn't know how he had been able to step out of the oak door, but here he was. The two men that had grabbed his arms had yet to release him, but their strong grips was fading.

He didn't understand what was happening.

He was led outside by two men, to a crowd shouting blue-murder. He didn't understand whatever they were saying. It was only gibberish. But he didn't have to understand their words to realize they were all spiteful. They were throwing rocks. Some reached him, making him stumble, not that it would make any difference. The two men were dragging his sorry behind to a slightly up-standing platform, where a wooden post was erected. Next to it, another man clothed in brown wool cloak stared at him. The same brown all the men he had seen before wore, except for the warden.

Bael could only stare at the huge cross around the man's neck. It was the only article differentiating him from the other men. The cross was oddly detailed, with golden embroideries, rubies and sapphires on the edges. It was glaring back at Bael, it seemed it had a will of its own.

 _The church … the catholic church._ Realized Bael, feeling oddly numb as his warden were attaching his hands together and pulling them forward. _Are they … going to burn me alive? Like in the tales? Will they behead me?_

The thoughts filtered through his brain at such a speed, Bael wasn't sure he was thinking them. His magic churned again, painfully tugging his guts.

A serene calm washed over the crowd when the cross man talked. Bael listened the beginning of it, but soon, he was fed some awful looking herbs. His eyelids closed against his will, his blurry eyesight only saw the evil grin the cross man sported. _Drugs …_ thought Bael before the deafening cries from the crowd died down and the world went black once again.

The dream-like state, induced by the plants he had been force-fed stopped when a searing pain, a pain so strong, so overwhelming – Bael was sure he was screaming full fledge – took hold of his brain. The pain, in his right arm, repeated thrice and in quick succession. A quick burn followed.

At the same time, Bael felt his magic react. It was automatic. It bursts out, tearing his organs in and out like Apparition could. With a clogged mind, Bael heard silence dawning on his mind. He was gone from the place.

The pain, it was reminiscing.

The tears, though … they were not.

It took time, but Bael realized no help would come. No Aurors, no Na-Dragon and no wizard. Nobody. He was utterly alone. Again.

The tears marring his face didn't look like they would be stopping anytime soon.

Sore, Bael had uncurled and looked at the damage.

The pain in his right arm? Gone.

Because his right arm was gone. In its place, a stump, half healed by his magic. On the ugly and blood soaked stumped, the imprint of the cross the man had held stared back at him, taunting Bael.

Bael didn't know how long he had been staring at it. The rational parts of his mind told him a quick St-mungoose check up would regrow the stump and erase the ugly tattoo-like burn. Another told him, it was the end of the world. That he would die before reaching help. Admist all, he cried some more.

With difficulty, he had hopped onto his feet. Around him, blackened dust settled down. Some trees were seen a few miles away, but either way, nothing was where he was. Walking, crunching sounds were heard. Under the sole of his boots, Bael belatedly saw the red leaves of Autumn.

More tears flew down his cheeks.

"Accidental magic happens all the time." Justified Bael, trying to run out of the dark dust – a side effect of uncontrolled Apparition. No, not Apparition. It was a side-effect of Oscurus – wizards who couldn't control their magic and end up bursting their surroundings. Iddly, horror dawning on his features, Bael looked at some fallen rocks not far from him. Had he blown up people when he had tried to escape? Were the leaves red because of …

"It was not me." He breathed out some more, "I … they tried to kill me!" he shouted to the world.

His screams reverberated into nothingness. He had no one but his mind to apologize to here.

With time, Bael realized his body had walked to the nearest village and hidden in some dark hole. People paid him no heed, which Bael could only thanx them. Pulling his hood up to hide his unruly hair – belatedly, Bael realized he could not attach his long hair, just pull them back with his left hand - and hiding his stump - he had lost all the feelings on that right arm by now - under his cloak, Bael had sat on the hard floor. Like a beggar, he had been thrown some scrap of bread, or rum when a passerby had felt pity. But no one had talked to him.

All Bael could do was stare. Sweet nothings, memories long gone. His calling for house elf had not worked. His friends were gone. His family was gone. His wand was gone. Sometimes, Bael would hear from the strange people in the village rumors about _wizards and explosion_. It guilt-tripped him so much, Bael couldn't bear to hear it to the end. He would tighten his hold on his bottle and wait.

 _Snow is falling._

Bael didn't budge.

A part of his brain supplied some answers to the strange people.

 _Muggle peasants._

Bael shuddered. The peasants, or whatever. The muggles – their lack of magic was proof enough – were clothed with the disturbing middle ages fashion. Bael had flinched to their gazes. Fearing a repeat of the field and the church.

Footsteps were now approaching him. It stopped right at its feet. Bael curled some more on himself, trying to be the smallest possible.

"Purebloods don't bow." Commented the harsh newcomer.

Bael looked up with an eagerness he hadn't thought possible, not even trying to hide his shame. The person in front of him … they were two, actually. A man and a woman. He had a black cloak and scarf while she had some brown rags. Their hair didn't seem to have seen water in a long time. But Bael supposed his neither did.

"What do you want?" Bael's voice was hoarse from lack of talking and from crying.

The man snickered. The woman didn't so much as react. Instead of leaving like Bael expected them to, the man reached into his cloak and retrieved a rock. He threw it to Bael who caught it by reflex with his left hand.

"It is a translation rune, in case you stumble onto too _archaic_ words." Mocked the man.

Bael frowned. How did he know he thought the people around like … uncivilized barbarians.

"Who are you?" croaked out Bael after a long time.

"Not here." Hissed the woman, "We are attracting attention."

The man nodded. He looked briefly at the woman in the eye, exchanging some mental words – and Bael realized they were wizards. Young wizards going by the youthful look of the woman. The man, he couldn't tell with the scarf.

"Come on up, mate." Rushed the man, holding out his hand to help Bael up.

Recoiling at the help, Bael still had to take up the arm to lift himself. His leg was not fully healed yet.

They walked some more, a sort of walk of shame for Bael. He felt so bad. He just wanted to crawl up in a hole and wake up from the nightmare.

"My name is Raoh." Finally whispered the man, "hers is Aeliam."

Bael shrugged. He had no intention to surrender his name. It was the only thing he had left. And he had a strong gut feeling, even if he were to give his name away, nobody would help him on his way home. He didn't want unwanted attention. Perhaps a false name if he requested one.

"You're wizards." Mumbled Bael.

The hold on his arm tightened.

"Not so loud." Stifled the woman. Aeliam, corrected Bael's brain.

"Yes." Said the man, barely louder than the wind, "And so are you."

"No. I'm not. You are mistaken." Blurted out Bael. His heart beating awfully loud in his chest, a sudden panic filling his chest after the misadventures he had suffered. Briefly, he thought about his right arm. He had yet to use his left hand to anything too.

Aeliam and Raoh exchanged another glance. They were talking, Bael just knew it. Occlumency was an art his mother had tried to teach him over the summer so as to not have any repeat of the Chamber of secrets. Bael liked to think he had taken to the art like a fish to water. But his mother had told him in no uncertain terms he sucked at it. But her standards were the Dark Lord, so he wasn't that worried about his apparent inability to use Occlumency.

"What?!" finally snapped Bael, trying to leave Raoh's hold. He was left staggering when the man freed him.

"Listen." Grunted the man, "We're from the resistance." He held a finger up to stop Bael from talking, "You have been victim of the muggles, that much we can see. But, of all the possibilities, you came out lucky." Bael snarled. How dare he? "Stop it!" groaned the man once more, "You could have been handed to the Stars, and then, goodbye dear life."

Bael froze.

"The Stars? Shapeshifters?" asked the metamorphmagus remembering with haggard eyes tales his mother had counted him in his younger days, "You're completely crazy." Decided Bael when he saw the resolute faces of the two people.

"No. We're not." Said Raoh again, "Right now, you're in shock. It's normal. In a few hours, your magic will finish to heal your leg wound - however you got that one – and you will feel depleted. Here," the man handed him a gourd, "It is full of pepper-up potion. That should help you. It's mixed with some strand of unicorn hair to disinfect any other wounds" he looked up Bael's eyebrow.

Bael clenched his jaw when he was the man staring him down. He didn't deserve any of it.

The woman fidgeted. Bael could clearly see she was not alright with this Raoh's decision. Bael would not pass up on the offer though. Even if it killed him to admit it.

"You need to leave the country." Finally pipped up Aeliam. She clarified. "Your burst of magic a few hours ago" Bael hid his surprise at the time lapse, he had thought it had been a few days, "has not gone unnoticed by the Stars. They are on the way. And once they are here, they will track your cross." Bael stiffened with Aeliam pointed look at his hidden arm. "It was enchanted by some Goblins." She answered Bael's question without him speaking. "You need to leave immediately. We will lead them away for a short while. If needed, take to the forests. Fairies will lead you."

Bael frowned. The lady was completely crazy. Fairies stopped existing a long time ago. And fleeing …

"Why should I listen to you?" demanded Bael, "You being in the resistance, or whatever that is, won't make me change my mind. I don't believe in all that Star crap."

"Don't you want to stop feeling useless?" snapped Aeliam – and Bael hated the moment he realized she was reading into his thoughts, "Your friends are gone, dead, your family had abandoned you. You're alone. And we can offer you a chance of escape from the Stars. We can offer you the chance to be someone again."

"It's not my problem. I have done nothing wrong. The Stars won't hurt me" Mumbled Bael.

The two wizards in front of him shifted, seemingly laughing at the prospect.

"Listen there, kid." Began Raoh, ignoring the bristling of Bael, "Stars are in league with the muggles that cut off your arm. That cross is quite infamous here. Should you end up within vicinity of the Stars or the cross that did that to you _and_ doing magic, the imprinted cross will burn red. And alert them that you are an undesirable. Looking at your left hand, and arms of coat, anyone can tell you're a pureblood." Bael stiffened, trying to keep his head high and failing miserably – perhaps skipping his lessons on etiquette had not been such a good idea after all, "That makes it worse. The Stars will suck you dry of your magic and blood."

Aeliam took the lead, "The moment the muggles almost killed you was the moment that whole mess became a part of your problem too. Leave the country, cross France and reach Rome. There, your family should help you."

"I have no family. You said so." Glared Bael. "Why should I risk my life for you? And _Rome_ of all the places." He scoffed.

"Because we have risked ours to find you. Because we risked ours to save your helpless friends." Snapped back Aeliam. "Some of them seemed to be alive." She spat. By now, both the woman and Bael were glaring at each other.

"Listen." Once again Raoh spoke up, stopping a scathing remark from the metamorphmagus. Bael was beginning to hate him with passion too, "If you want to save them too, if you want to help, if you want to survive, follow our instructions. You've already realized it, haven't you? We're at war. Muggles and Stars against wizard. Mistrust hangs in the air, everywhere. Muggles know where we are all the time. We can't expand more, but you need to reach Rome and talk to the Blacks. Don't glare, we know you're a Black, it is obvious. You wear their coat of arms on your ring finger. Convince them to come back. Convince them to rally to the Queen's army once more."

Bael frowned. A sense of purpose filled him – and Bael almost lashed out when he realized magic was at work. The two wizards were compelling him to follow their instructions. How … shrewd.

"The Queen's … army?" he pinched his lips, hating how easily he was falling to the charm.

"That way, you'll be safer. Always on the move. And it would greatly help us. We heard from your friends you were great with words."

"You don't know me. And I don't have any friends. You are mistaken. Good day." Bael tried to leave. Unfortunately, one of the two wizards must have sent a stunner his way because he couldn't move a single muscle.

"Of course, we do know you." Humphed Aeliam, tugging the two toward a deserted alleyway, "Give the Blacks this."

She handed Bael a sealed scroll.

"I never said I agreed." Rasped the boy, voice full of contempt.

"But your eyes did." Whispered back Aeliam, "You can either stay here and literally die, or you could take up on our offer and supply of pepper-up potion to go to Rome and convince the Blacks to come back. Also, you can chose not to fight back against oppression. That's your choice. But you should know your _friends_ , those who come from that _Hogwarts_ place, they have chosen to fight with us." She pulled out a ring with a special coin.

The coin, Bael noticed, was the same he had collected with Neville, Ron and Hermione in the chamber of Secrets. The one emblazoned with a huge H. The one he had used in the ruins to help Ron and Neville out of the tomb. The one that had reappeared in his pocket a few days later.

"This is how we recognize each other. Now, I was led to believe you already had the coin." She whispered, her eyes sharp. "Use it well. This allows you to go to some places in the magical world."

"And a word of advice," cut Raoh, "should you try to sell us to the Stars, the coin will suck you dry to the bone. So don't."

Bael froze. He should have never touched those damn coin. He gulped and bit down hard on his lips, almost drawing unnecessary blood. He hated when people thought they saw through his mind.

"You keep saying you know my friends, but-"

Bael stopped when Aeliam raised her wand and showed him an image of ragged down Gryffindors. They looked like they were laughing, though. Happy.

Bael felt both bitter and relieved. Ron's face was not amongst the people – only Neville, Seamus and Hermione.

Either way, he had taken the scroll and a swig from the gourd. The time it took him to do these very actions, the strangers were gone in a rumbling noise. A promise whispered in the air announced they would meet again.

 _Damn … I don't even know where I am._

…

* * *

 _Did I come back in time?_

The question hung in the air, while Bael viewed some more muggles.

A twitch in his hand was the only clear reaction Bael had.

The rock Raoh had given him worked wonders. Also, it allowed him to speak the same old language of the peasants. Bael fully used it.

Trying to squash down the unpleasant bitterness at the mere sight of muggles – _it's their fault, theirs!_ – Bael walked out of the village bitterly. His right arm throbbing every time he tried to soothe it with his magic. The gourd seemed endless. He wasn't sure, so he had stolen from a sleeping man a few golden coins in case he would need to buy something. Water, if it could be bought.

Rage was still seeping. Fortunately his hood was up and hiding most of his red mane. His eyes, though, Bael wasn't sure. It must have been just as red. Bael sniffed, letting his eyes graze the floor and thus avoiding eye contact with the muggles.

Walking would do him good. He had nothing else to do but ruminate anyway.

 _Why do I even help people doomed to die. They said they saw my friends … but they will end up ghosts. Like Ron and Draco._

Bael snarled.

He had realized quickly enough that he had come back in time, and so had his whole class. The ghosts he had seen in Hogwarts park? The remnants of his best friend and cousin. They had died in this era, and only their ghosts selves had made it back to the present.

 _And we will all go down that way_

Going back in time was crazy enough. Speeding time back to the present, though? It was crazier. Nobody could pull that off. Not even with Ravenclaw's diadem and its admittedly all-knowing science.

Bael heaved a sigh.

He was alone on the road. And the night was settling. Soon the Stars would be out, and Bael needed a quick way out. With nostalgia, Bael peered up at the sky to look at the lights. The stars, those that shone brightly and soothingly.

"The north is there … I need to go south." He pointed with his left hand the few constellations he knew.

 _It will take me month to reach the sea._

The days blurred by. When the sun was out, Bael would stop and sleep in a secluded corner. Only at night, when the stars were out and about to guide him, would Bael travel. With the potion, his leg had healed in a couple hours after the first swig. True to Raoh's word, he had felt tired, but he had still enough in him to carry on walking. And the fact huge monsters – or so Bael imagined – were behind him for his hide didn't please Bael in the slightest. The tales of Stars were frightening him. Even more so since his right arm – or what was left of it – had burnt him one night. It had shone a bright red, and Bael had rushed to cover his boiling arm with his tattered cloak. Some natural born instinct had told him to run as fast as he could, and he was very happy to have followed that instinct. Not a minute later, the road he had been on reeked of dark magic, a cloud spewing out of nowhere poisoned its environment. Bael had seen the forest from afar _decaying_.

The days were bland and cold. Only the pepper-up potion kept him moving – and Bael knew how unhealthy that was. Sometimes, when Bael could see them, he would take some edible unfrozen plants and try and stew them. It tasted awful, and Bael retched the very first times. He was now oddly accustomed to it. Perhaps three weeks had passed.

After several fortnights coddled up in his furred cloak – thank you the heavy traditional clothes of the duel classes -, Bael had reached the coast. Asking for some directions to the nearest port that would take him to France had not been very difficult either. Something to do with Normandie and an English royal there.

Bael had almost sneered at that. Muggles royal families were all intertwined.

His hate for muggles was growing disproportionately, by the day. It was forming an ugly beast, one dictating him to rally to this Queen's army and fight back – or perhaps it was the effect of the spell one of the two wizard had cast on him. For as long as he was moving, things would be fine.

"That will be 57 golden louis." Drawled the seaman willing to take him up on the back of his boat.

Bael felt an ugly urge to strangle the man.

He may have looked poor – and he was poor right now – but even then, he knew when somebody was trying to rob him. And right now, this imposter was doing so.

Tentatively, Bael reached out with his mind. The muggle never saw it coming.

"You will let me on your boat and let me down once in France" muttered Bael.

The sailor had glazed eyes. He repeated the very same words in a droning voice before his eyes cleared.

"Ah. Yes. Come on." He murmured. "let's go before the night falls."

Bael smirked.

Well, he had practiced an awful number of times on unsuspecting night travelers, but the results were very effective. It was not quite like the Impero, because the Occlumency was more like … implanting a false reason into somebody's brain. And then, the victim would agree to whatever request … yes. Bael had been creative.

The boat was dirty. Almost as much as Bael was. But there had been real food there. Even if half rotten, with fish not so fresh. Bael had welcomed the change. His stomach was sturdier, now, but not enough apparently.

"Aye, see-sick lad." Greeted one morning on the sea the sailor. "t'happens."

Bael rolled his eyes at the muggle. He kept his face hunched, in case he would need to throw up again. These days, it felt like throwing up was a constant.

"Lad, France is occupied these days." Said after a few days the sailor, "you sure you want to stay there?"

"I've got family." Grumbled Bael with heavy eyes. He was enveloped by light covers to protect him slightly from the freezing winter wind.

"Aye. Beware of the romans." Finished the sailor, not wanting to speak up much more.

 _The romans? What … ?!_

Bael thought he had swallowed whole a lemon. He hoped he remembered enough of his history lessons to avoid any precarious situations.

Just, _when_ had he come back in time.

In the end, the whole sea travel took 6 days and a night, counted Bael. And they had landed in _Bretagne_ , the west coast of France, in a small fishing village.

Bael had quickly left unnoticed.

 _In the end, Raoh and Aeliam were right. I'm safer when on the move._

Nobody had followed. Or so Bael thought. It was painfully easy to avoid detection. With a stick to help the walking, one just had to fumble some words to strangers to be let alone.

"Going to Paris to see the new King?"

Bael looked up at the peasant talking. He had an unpleasant ginger moustache, but he was at least somewhat nice to talk to. He had a chariot, transporting goods. Perhaps, with some convincing, he could persuade the man to take him to the south toward the next big city. Lyon. Or Lugdunum in these days. The information Bael had gleaned from his travels were that he had landed in an old era. Whatever it was called these days.

"I heard Hugues Capet wants to tax the romans." Continued the man. "It's gonna be hassle now to go to Lugdunum."

Bael recoiled. Ok, time to persuade the man to lend him the chariot if he couldn't take him himself.

"Aye, Lugdunum? I'm going there too." Had said another merchant behind the ginger peasant, "Hop in, lad."

Bael frowned. Why would they take him …? they were far too trusting, and him, far too paranoid. Idly, he remembered history lessons. French people had been very opened to French only. And thanx to the rock Raoh had given him, he could talk the dreaded old language.

"The Pope declared that new King the legitimate heir." Said the new peasant willing to take in Bael, "'said he had the blood flowing."

Bael frowned. He didn't know much of muggle history. Actually, he knew nothing. Much less about the people here.

 _Did I time-travel past the XVIII century?_

The realization dawned on Bael, as he and Childeri – the peasant's name – went through some villages to the south. The people were hardly the same civilized bunch he had remembered the muggles to be back when his …

Bael blinked back tears. Now was not the time. He had a scroll to give to the Blacks in Rome. He had to somehow convince them to come back to the Queen's army. Yes. That was it. Only that. Nothing else mattered.

 _Also, did he say Rome was inhabited by that Pope dude? Does that mean … Catholics …_

Bael sat upright. The nightmarish cross the clerk that had chopped his arm off had worn was dancing in front of his eyes. He was starting to hyperventilate. Right about now, he was nowhere near ready to face anything that had a remote link to the cross. Why did he have to put up with all the religious folk?


End file.
